


A Man Like Any Other

by shinyforce



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-02-27 12:58:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 22,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2693870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinyforce/pseuds/shinyforce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tae'thelan comes to realise that Rommath is not the villain he thought he was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For Wanda, who reawakened my love for writing and made me care about Rommath. This is largely her fault.
> 
>  **15/12/16 --** Legion has shown that I was completely wrong to give Tae'thelan the benefit of the doubt when it comes to him having a sympathetic nature under all his pomposity, lol. He's far too nice in this fic, even accounting for him likely not being a complete ass when he wants something. Whoops! I still think it's an enjoyable read, I just wanted to note that I'm aware that new content has completely jossed my old characterisation. ;)

Normally a measured, considered man, Tae’thelan was fuming as he stormed into Rommath’s office. He didn’t slam the door – that would have been drawing battle lines already and perhaps this was all just an innocent misunderstanding – but he did thump the butt of his staff on the floor, spitefully hoping to make a dent in the carpet.

“High Examiner,” Rommath said, not bothering to look up from his paperwork. “I don’t remember you making an appointment.”

Tae’thelan bristled. Rommath was never exactly warm, but the sheer power of his disinterest today hit him like an icy wave. “You know why I’m here,” he spat, all hope of a reasoned conversation washed away. “You stole it, you bastard! Years of work, gone, only to reappear with your name attached later, I’m sure! Are you really so lacking in scruples? In regard for me?”

Rommath looked up, then, and gave him a well-practised look of boredom. “You finally noticed, then. You’re slacking – I had that thing delivered to my workshop last week. Clearly it’s in superior hands now. Ones that will give it the attention it deserves.”

“ _I_ was giving it the attention it deserves! It was fully translated when you took it, as you well know! I’ve been organising an expedition to the vault it references, not lounging around!”

“Oh? That saves me the trouble, then. My gratitude, High Examiner.” Rommath flicked an ear as though he were amused by Tae’thelan’s anger. “I must remember to pack my lighter robes. Terribly hot in the Badlands, I hear. When am I leaving?”

“Is this some kind of elaborate joke? Is this merely sport for you, angering me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. This could be the most important artifact our people have ever found – do you think I’m going to leave it to a jumped-up dandy? The Reliquary hasn’t exactly been swimming in victories. I’m not going to let this one fall into Alliance hands too.”

Tae’thelan quivered, anger needling every nerve of his body. “You know that had nothing to do with me.”  _Is this really who I choose to share my bed with? This terrible man, as cold and sharp as an ice lance?_  Lately he had been thinking that Rommath was softer than he let on, that he was a man with feelings just like any other, but was that just what he wanted to think, to justify his choice of bedmate? Had Rommath been pretending, handing out morsels of affection just to keep Tae’thelan hanging on for his own amusement? There had been no love lost between them previously, but after that one night they’d shared after a chance meeting at the opera, needling each other until the tension had snapped and unravelled onto rumpled sheets, Tae’thelan had thought they’d at least reached an understanding.

“That’s exactly the point. You’re negligent. The artifact is mine. I will brook no argument in this. Consider yourself relieved. Take a holiday – Pandaria’s a good choice, since you didn’t make it with the rest of us.”

Intolerable. Completely and utterly intolerable. How dare he. “Because I was back here researching this bloody artifact! This is my work, mine!” Tae’thelan didn’t realise he had raised his voice until it was too late and he looked a hot headed fool. How Rommath would enjoy that.

“And the Magisterium thanks you for your service. Very thorough. Excellent diagrams, legible handwriting. You will be rewarded with a certificate, no doubt. Framed, of course.” After a beat Rommath cocked his head and met Tae’thelan’s narrowed eyes with his own impassive ones. “That was your dismissal.”

“What if I say we’re not finished here?” Tae’thelan would never normally be so bold –  _will he think it a threat?_ – but his anger was an overpowering cocktail of loss, confusion and betrayal, making him drunk, making him stupid.

“Then stay, by all means. You’re not unpleasant to look at. Just expect to get very bored.” Rommath turned back to his paperwork, taking up his quill and signing something important-looking with a flourish. He did not look up.

Tae’thelan fought the urge to fling ink all over Rommath and his damned paperwork. “Are you really going to take this from me, after everything?”

Rommath sighed, as though Tae’thelan were an apprentice with one too many questions. “What everything? Taking you to my bed a time or two? Did you think that would change how ridiculous I think you? And for that matter how terrible you think me?” He cocked an eyebrow, the rest of his face blank as parchment. “What is it you call me behind closed doors? ‘Fel-tainted warlock’?”

 _Of course you’ve been spying on me._ “Do you deny it?” Tae’thelan said defiantly, angry at Rommath for all the dreadful things he had done in the name of ‘necessity’ and angry with himself for being able to overlook them for a romp between the sheets.  _No wonder he thinks me ridiculous. All these principles I pin on myself like medals, and I drop them for a man who doesn’t even like me._

“Well, I’m certainly not going to agree to it, am I?” Rommath looked nettled now. “Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for Quel’thalas, and thanks to me it’s still standing.  _We’re_  still standing. So spare me your hand-wringing and accusations, and get out. Leave. I tire of this nonsense.”

“I refuse. Not until you give me my expedition back.”

Rommath stood then, and stalked around his desk to stand face to face with Tae’thelan. He was shorter than Tae’thelan, who had the typical height and grace of the sin’dorei, but the sheer strength of his presence made him intimidating. His nostrils flared. “Have you always been this tiresome? I expect my instructions to be followed. I  _said_  leave.”

“And I said no.” The last time they’d been this close, Tae’thelan had kissed him. Even furious, he couldn’t help himself from glancing at Rommath’s lips, sensual even twisted in irritation. He wanted to fuck him or hit him. Either would do, but neither was an option.  _I’m disgusting._ He _’s disgusting,_ he thought frantically.

Rommath stared at him appraisingly and sneered. “Do try to control yourself, Bloodwatcher.”

Something in him snapped. “How dare you try to shame me! As though you weren’t moaning and gasping beneath me the night before last!” He had gone too far now, he knew, but he felt brave and reckless, like an adolescent spoiling for a fight. “You’re a disgrace.”

“If you’re looking to hurt my feelings you’re going to have to try harder than that,” Rommath scoffed. “Leave, before you embarrass yourself further.” He spun on his heels to return to his desk, but Tae’thelan caught his elbow roughly and pulled him back. Rommath looked alarmed but did not cry out. He tugged his arm back and waited, glaring imperiously.

 _I haven’t embarrassed myself nearly enough. Not when I have nothing more to lose._  “Perhaps I should try embarrassing you instead, then,” Tae’thelan said, smouldering down at Rommath. His voice was thick with anger and hurt and need, and as he crushed his mouth to Rommath’s he hoped every last drop of his misery would fill Rommath, drip down down down to become a part of him. Lips pulled and teeth scraped and he claimed Rommath’s mouth for his own, indelicate and grasping and desperate.  _I hate you,_  he thought miserably, his hot flush of shame revealing it for a lie. He’d expected Rommath to push him away, but his tongue slid needily against Tae’thelan’s, encouraging him, drawing him deeper. It was a mockery of all a kiss should be, a conquest not a surrender, a revelling in power and uncertainty and wrath. It was exquisite.

When Tae’thelan finally pulled away they both stared at each other, the moment stretching unbearably until Rommath shattered it, saying, throatily, “If you’re not on time tomorrow I’m leaving without you.” His look dared Tae’thelan to say anything, anything at all.

Tae’thelan wisely did not, instead gathering what was left of his tattered pride and striding out of Rommath’s office, pretending that he did not flee.

 

***

 

The next morning Tae’thelan arrived at Sunfury Spire early, carrying only his staff and a well-worn leather knapsack. Since he split his time evenly between the city and his archaeological digs he kept most of his travelling effects in sturdy, magically-locked trunks in his pavilion at Bloodwatcher Point. His books and clothes would all be there, and of course that blasted Rommath had his notes and the keystone he’d spent over a year tracking down.  _He’ll expect me to be grateful for being allowed on my own expedition_ , he thought sourly.  _Well, dash him. He’ll find my people are more loyal than he expects._ Some culling was going to have to happen, though: an order from the Grand Magister to hand something over could not be refused, but equally, neglecting to tell him about it for a week was inexcusable. He would set Belloc on it – the man enjoyed a good intrigue.

Rommath arrived late, claiming urgent matters of state with his typical lack of apology. That he was blinking more than usual and clearly trying to stifle the occasional yawn put the lie to it; Tae’thelan was tempted to comment but decided he wasn’t ready to clash with a tired, tousled Rommath this early in the morning, so he kept quiet and merely nodded in greeting. “Grand Magister.”

“Bloodwatcher.” Normally the lack of title would rankle, but today he was expecting it: Rommath was tired, and likely – hopefully? – vexed about the events of the day before.  _Did thoughts of me keep you up last night?_  Unlikely, but satisfying if true. Rommath deserved some of the tossing and turning, the too-warm sheets and the stiff betrayal of his body.  _He acts cold, but he did not stop me from kissing him._  The tips of his ears pinkened slightly and he busied himself with checking the strap on his pack one last time.

When Tae’thelan looked up Rommath’s magisters were creating a portal to Bloodwatcher Point, and Rommath himself was looking at him, face inscrutable. “You first,” he said, inclining his head towards the portal. “If anyone is to be mauled or bitten or stung it should be you.”

“Your fondness for me is touching as ever,” Tae’thelan murmured as he passed him, amused. “What kind of camp do you think I run?”

Rommath yawned, covering his mouth with his hand. “A lax one, no doubt. Who knows what you get up to without the supervision of your betters.”

“Well, I’ll be sure to hand you a satisfaction questionnaire on the way back.”  _My betters, indeed!_ Piqued, Tae’thelan tossed his hair, sun-kissed blond and gleaming, and strode into the portal with as much elegant dignity as he could muster.

 

***

 

That night Tae’thelan, reclining on a chaise longue in his pavilion, finished the last of his wine and wearily closed his eyes. The day had been tedious beyond reckoning. First there had been some unpleasantness with the Explorer’s League, who had decided that whatever the Reliquary wanted should be theirs instead, and nevermind that they didn’t know what it was. Rommath had reprimanded him for letting the dwarves get wind of their expedition, and Tae’thelan had tartly replied that it was perhaps the Grand Magister himself taking an interest that had alerted them.

When they’d finally dealt with the League they’d gone straight into clearing a path through the enraged earth elementals that roamed the Scar of the Worldbreaker, and from there to an avalanche that had not been there when last Tae’thelan had surveyed the site. Even with both Rommath and Tae’thelan’s sorcery it took a great deal of time to clear, and everyone had been tired, irritable, and dripping with sweat from the heat and exertion. With the daylight soon to fade they had agreed to return in the morning and had all traipsed back to camp, spirits low.

Conversation at dinner had been stilted. The members of the Reliquary were in awe of the Grand Magister, and also aware that Tae’thelan had not wanted him here. The strange tension between Tae’thelan and Rommath had driven everyone to bed early, and so here he was, glass empty and Rommath occupying his futon.  _Why bring yours when you can take mine?_  he thought sourly, dearly wanting another glass of wine but too disciplined to have one. Because he spent half his time there all of the appointments of his pavilion were of the highest quality, and since Rommath outranked him – and oh, how that rankled! How easy to become Grand Magister when one was best friends with a prince – he had been all but forced to offer his quarters to him. It would be much less awkward if Tae’thelan had just left him to it and gone to sleep elsewhere, but this was  _his_  tent, and he’d be damned if he’d let Rommath think he was submitting to him. The pavilion was large enough for two and so was the futon, and that was that.

“I’m cold,” Rommath complained.

Tae’thelan opened his eyes and looked over at him, giving a token attempt at not looking amused. “I was wondering when you’d say that.”

“You deliberately didn’t tell me how cold this forsaken place is at night.” The accusation in Rommath’s voice would have quailed a lesser man, but Tae’thelan was not afraid of Rommath. Not here, anyway. What could he do, complain at him some more? Withhold his dubious affection? He was doing that already.

Tae’thelan affected a look of innocence that would have been compelling for anyone but Rommath. “I thought you knew. I didn’t think you’d need advice from the likes of me, since you  _are_  my better.” It was an inelegant jab, he knew, but he’d been unable to resist.

“And well you should remember it.” The icy glare Rommath gave Tae’thelan was tempered by his shivering and drawing the covers around him some more.

“You look like you’re building a nest.”

“What else am I to do? Wait for the hot air you talk to warm me?”

“You could ask for my help.” Tae’thelan stood up slowly, feeling the effort of the day, and walked over to his dresser, on top of which he placed his empty wine glass. He watched Rommath expectantly, arms crossed.

After a mutinous silence punctuated by another shiver Rommath said, not looking him in the eye, “Help me,” followed grudgingly by: “please.” It clearly cost him a lot to say, which pleased Tae’thelan immeasurably.

“You have two options,” he said, opening the bottom drawer of the dresser and pulling out several thick, soft blankets. “The quick way and the slow way.” He brought the blankets over to the futon and started layering them on top of the single one Rommath already had.

“The quick way, of course,” Rommath said disdainfully, patience exhausted. “Stop playing with me and get on with it.”

“As you command,” Tae’thelan said, with a small bow and only a hint of irony. He removed his clothes hastily, only barely bothering to fold them, and slid into bed next to Rommath, his side of the sheets freezing cold.  _I’d have made you stare at me but it’s not much of a show when it’s this cold,_ he thought ruefully.

“What are you doing?” Rommath asked suspiciously as Tae’thelan pressed up against him.

“Warming you up the quick way, as requested.” Tae’thelan winced as the hairs on his arms and legs rose the instant they came into contact with Rommath’s cold skin. “You’re a fool, by the way, for not wearing anything. It suits my purpose just now, but you really should have asked me for something before getting into bed.”  _But of course you didn’t, because asking me for help is beneath you._

“I asked just now, but apparently your idea of help is molesting me.” Rommath did not move away, however.

Tae’thelan slid his arms around him and pulled him more tightly against him, sinking into the familiar feeling of being the big spoon. Rommath’s hair tickled his nose; it smelled of sandalwood hair oil and the barest hint of fresh sweat. The combination was alluring and he hoped that the cold would prevent him from embarrassing himself so early in the embrace. Rommath could not know just how badly everything about him affected him. Every nerve in his body was alight, as though Tae’thelan were an adolescent again.  _Ridiculous,_ he castigated himself.  _He’s not the magnificent figure you think he is._ But he knew it for a lie, even as Rommath gradually relaxed into his arms, unable to prevent himself from basking in Tae’thelan’s heat.

“I’m not molesting you,” Tae’thelan said, knowing he badly wanted to. “I’m warming you up before I clothe you in a very fashionable thermal nightshirt. It works far better if you’re already warm when you put it on, hence my noble sacrifice in tolerating your freezing cold buttocks.”

“You overstep, Bloodwatcher,” Rommath said, though the expected harshness of his tone was absent, and he still had not moved away.

 _Overstepping would be grabbing your cock, not warming you tenderly with my body,_ Tae’thelan thought but did not say. If he introduced that possibility to the conversation he did not think it would be possible to restrain himself. Sound travelled far too well out in the desert night and he knew that Rommath would not be best pleased if anyone heard anything that could link them romantically.  _He_  wouldn’t be best pleased either, if it came to that, but being around Rommath made him reckless, made him care less.  _High Examiner Tae’thelan Bloodwatcher, too eager for cock to act with decorum._ How absurd he was! He almost laughed aloud. Careful, measured, dignified, that was what he was, not this lustful monster. He was supposed to hate Rommath, and hate him he did, if hating was wanting to seize Rommath’s cock and pump him roughly until he came in a violent rush all over his hand, hot and angry and conquering. Was that what hate was?

“You feel warmer,” Tae’thelan said weakly. It would be so easy to slide his hand down Rommath’s stomach, down the dark trail of hair that all but urged his touch lower.

“I suppose.” Rommath sounded grudging. “You’re certainly warm enough for the both of us. Apparently even my freezing buttocks are enough to get you going. You shame yourself.”

 _Why hasn’t he left? He looks down on me, hates me too – why is he letting me do this?_  Madness; no man who truly hated him would tolerate his climbing into his bed like this. So... what? Rude, brusque, sharp as a serpent’s fangs: why insult him and encourage him both? It made as much sense as his own feelings of loathing and desire. Rommath was right, he  _did_  shame himself, so why did he exult in it, revel in it, filthy and trapped in a mire of lust? His cock throbbed heavily, insistently against Rommath’s ass and Tae’thelan felt something inside himself unravel.

“Tell me you don’t want it,” he challenged, voice husky as he pressed his hips up slightly, slightly, sullying Rommath’s skin with his wetness.

“Will you leave if I do?” Rommath asked, voice strange, as though each word was new to him. His body was taut and rigid and almost as warm as Tae’thelan now.

“Of course.” The words were agony, but, monster or not, Tae’thelan was a gentleman, at least in theory.

“Get on with it then,” Rommath said, and for a terrible moment Tae’thelan didn’t know whether he meant fucking or leaving. The roll of Rommath’s hips back against him was sweet, thankful relief. “And be quiet,” Rommath added. “I’ll not have your people talking about you putting your hands on me.”

“It’s not me you need to worry about being quiet,” Tae’thelan said, half hoping he would later make Rommath cry out just to punish him. “And that’s the least romantic thing I’ve ever heard.”

Rommath gave a low chuckle. “But this isn’t about romance, is it?”

“I suppose not.” Tae’thelan grabbed at Rommath’s cock, huge and hot in his hand. “So what  _is_  this about?” He squeezed roughly and heard Rommath take a sharp, shocked breath.

“Pleasure? Power? Does a good fuck need a reason?” Rommath gasped, pushing needily into Tae’thelan’s hand.

Tae’thelan rubbed the palm of his hand in circles on the head of Rommath’s cock, swollen and throbbing as he grasped with the other, so intense that Rommath squirmed and bucked against him. “I thought the Grand Magister was more discerning than that.”

“Then you thought wrong,” Rommath bit out between gritted teeth. “And stop that, it’s too–” He sucked in a breath and swore.

“Too?” Tae’thelan prompted, shifting his hips to rub against the cleft of Rommath’s ass.

“Too much, and you know it. Two minutes of pleasure and I will be displeased.” Rommath made it sound as though his displeasure was the very worst thing in the world, and for Tae’thelan at that moment it was. He eased off and began to stroke him more gently.

“Roll over,” Tae’thelan demanded. Rommath’s ass against his cock was maddening when he knew that actually fucking him would make too much noise. It was possible to be quiet, be gentle, but not the way Tae’thelan wanted Rommath right now. Slamming hips, the deepest of thrusts, the almost painful feel of Rommath clenching around him as he cried out again and again into the pillows: that was what the camp would hear if Tae’thelan took Rommath as he wanted tonight. He had to remove the temptation.

Rommath did as he was bid, scrambling around to face Tae’thelan, face flushed and eyes blazing. He looked different with his hair unbound, more vulnerable and more wild, somehow. Dark strands cascaded over his chest like silk, and his sheer masculine beauty demanded that Tae’thelan worship him. He pressed kisses to his jaw, his neck, his chest, and then Tae’thelan rumbled, low and deep in his throat, and attacked Rommath’s hard, erect nipple with his mouth, sucking and licking and biting and pulling, the short dark hairs that brushed his nose and chin inflaming him further. The biting, definitely the biting – Rommath clearly liked that most of all, lips pressed into a hard line and eyes tightly shut as he rubbed erratically against Tae’thelan’s body above him.

Moments like this were what Tae’thelan lived for, moments out of time where their public personas fell away like discarded robes of state. He hadn’t even been sure that Rommath  _had_  a private self, but the writhing, wanton creature beneath him was clearly a man like any other, so easily undone by pleasure and desire.

Scraping it through his teeth, Tae’thelan let Rommath’s nipple go, red, stiff and deliciously sore in the cold air. Rommath’s leg twitched and he wet his lips as he looked up at Tae’thelan.

“More,” he said hoarsely, eyes unnaturally bright. “Make me feel it tomorrow.”

“Are you sure that’s wise?” Tae’thelan gave Rommath a gentle tweak, his own cock throbbing when Rommath made a small, restrained sound of pleasure and rubbed himself against Tae’thelan.

“I want it. Please.” Rommath’s pleading tone contrasted strangely with the determined set of his jaw.

“Then I am your servant,” Tae’thelan said, thinking  _I would do anything you asked, anything at all._ He bathed Rommath’s already ravaged nipple with his tongue, a thrill running through him as Rommath’s chest heaved beneath him, his breathing heavy and electric. He bit again, carefully, afraid of hurting him, but Rommath rubbed himself even more insistently against him, his cock practically dripping. Tae’thelan wanted to lick it, to drink it in and fill himself, but that would come later; he couldn’t ignore an instruction from such a flushed, impetuous beauty. Rommath’s nipple tasted of heat and the tang of aching skin. He bit and bathed and scraped, torturing the flesh until Rommath gave a low moan and his body sagged into the mattress.

“No more. I – if I don’t come now I’ll… I could not bear it.”

Tae’thelan was tempted to tease him, draw it out until he was begging, but tonight wasn’t the night for it. Rommath was being disconcertingly sincere right now, and he wanted to reward not frustrate. Kissing his nipple one last time –  _he really is going to feel that tomorrow,_  he thought with a wince – Tae’thelan made his way down Rommath’s torso, following the trail of hair with licks and kisses. Rommath was hairy for an elf, which spoke to something primal in Tae’thelan. His whole body exuded masculinity and vitality: his strong, powerful thighs; his sensuous lips, just made to be wrapped around a cock or a cunt; his glorious manhood, intimidating and enticing both.

Without preamble Tae’thelan took Rommath into his mouth, both of them groaning in relief. This was what Tae’thelan needed, more than even his own cock being touched. The taste and scent of musk and sweat, virile and intoxicating, was unbearably good; the feel of solid, burning, throbbing flesh between his lips, exquisite. He settled deeper between Rommath’s legs and gripped the base of his erection with his hand as he swirled his tongue around the swollen, eager head. Rommath’s cock was so deliciously large that he always had to carefully work up to taking all of him in lest he gag and choke. Rommath was usually good at keeping still to begin with; the guiding hand was more for Tae’thelan, who found being careful around Rommath unbearable.

 _Why do I need him so badly? I don’t even like him._ Rommath was an attractive man, but that wasn’t it – Tae’thelan, handsome and powerful in his own right, could have as many attractive men and women as he wanted and more to spare. Was it the challenge, the thrill of rutting with a man who was so famously full of ice and venom?  _Perhaps,_ he thought, with a flush of shame that added to his arousal,  _but why, then, am I compelled to come back? Why was once not enough?_ Tae’thelan was so saturated with lust and desire that he feared he would never have enough of Rommath. How could he have become infatuated with a man who looked down at him, who thought him soft and foolish and too principled to be practical?

 _Can’t you see how I worship you?_ Tae’thelan thought desperately, wretchedly.  _How badly I want to please you?_  His cheeks hollowed rhythmically and Rommath gasped, fisting helplessly at the sheets, golden skin flushed and muscles straining. More, he wanted more; wanted to feel Rommath arch his hips and fuck his mouth, lost to all but his pleasure. He shivered at the thought of Rommath using him like that and drew away the hand that had been grasping at the base of Rommath’s cock, cupping his hot, heavy balls instead. If they were not in a tent, if they were both not so frantic for touch and release, Tae’thelan would have revelled in taking them into his mouth, licking and sucking and humming and seeing just how much pressure he could take. Rommath’s body was beautifully responsive, and he yearned to toy and play, though not as much as he wanted to feel his come drip down his throat.

Rommath hissed as Tae’thelan took him further into his mouth, the head of his cock rubbing against the back of his throat. Tae’thelan breathed deeply through his nose and paused, adjusting to the sensation. He looked up at Rommath, who met his eyes briefly, gaze dark and impenetrable, before looking back at his cock disappearing between Tae’thelan’s lips, at Tae’thelan’s blond hair falling over his thighs. He’d seemed like he wanted to say something but had decided against it.  _Oh, to know what’s running through your head. I am yours, whatever you need to do to me._

Flattening the back of his tongue and lowering himself onto his stomach Tae’thelan took more and more of Rommath into his throat, using his tongue to encourage him in. Eventually his nose came to rest in his dark, straight pubic hair, soft and musky with Rommath’s arousal. He wanted to moan but could not; his throat tickled Rommath’s cock instead, and that only made Tae’thelan harder. He swallowed, and then swallowed again, massaging him with his throat, feeling every throb and twitch. He licked at Rommath’s balls with the tip of his tongue as he continued to swallow, so grateful to be pleasuring him that the discomfort became a strange kind of thrill.

When he next looked up at Rommath one hand was gripping the sheets and the other was twisting at the nipple that Tae’thelan had ravaged earlier. Meeting his gaze and keeping it this time, Rommath thrust his hips ever so slightly, watching for Tae’thelan’s reaction. Tae’thelan nodded and then it was his turn to fist the sheets as Rommath thrust in and out of him, slow and measured at first but quickly falling into a staccato rhythm with a half-sob as Tae’thelan continued to massage his cock with his swallowing. He saw Rommath shift and then felt a hand in his hair, holding him in place as Rommath debauched him, all heat and hunger and wild desire. Tae’thelan’s lips felt swollen, wrapped so tightly around Rommath’s immense length; he felt full, used, excited, ashamed. Only a couple of layers of canvas separated him from utter disgrace, laid out bare, the Grand Magister fucking his throat, murmuring obscenities and pulling his hair.

He wanted to cry out, call Rommath’s name, feel hot, eager lips on his own cock. He reached for himself, unable to bear it any longer, but Rommath grabbed him by the wrist and forced his hand back on the bed. In desperation Tae’thelan rubbed himself on the sheets, thinking any stimulation was better than none, but it was so feeble as to be maddening.  _My turn soon,_ he thought pleadingly, turning his gaze to Rommath’s lips, currently being bitten to prevent himself from moaning too loudly. He seemed mesmerised by the sight of his cock sliding back and forth between Tae’thelan’s lips. His thrusting became jerky and erratic, and in the hot wetness of his mouth Tae’thelan felt Rommath’s cock swell, huge and heavy. Taking a last, shuddering breath through his nose Tae’thelan worked his throat harder and massaged the underside of Rommath’s cock roughly with his tongue, shamefully excited by the pleasure Rommath was about to have in him.

Rommath gasped and jerked the back of Tae’thelan’s head up by his hair, pushing deeper, deeper with sharp, shallow thrusts. He ground against Tae’thelan’s face as he began to come, and as he did so Tae’thelan reached out and slid a finger into Rommath’s ass, earning a beautiful, animal moan that felt like Tae’thelan had claimed him. Tae’thelan greedily swallowed each jet of come as Rommath’s cock twitched and pulsed, feeling only slightly bereft at not being able to taste it.  _You make me absurd,_ he thought incredulously, wondering at what point he had begun to crave licking Rommath’s seed from his lips.  _A time or two in your bed and I’m already filthy._ The truly frightening thing was that he relished it; he felt free, vital, unrestrained, in a way he never had before.

With one final drop spilling down Tae’thelan’s throat Rommath’s hips stilled and he sagged, panting. Strands of damp hair hung about his face, and though he glanced down at Tae’thelan his eyes were unseeing. He pulled out slowly, cock glistening as it emerged from between Tae’thelan’s lips, and flumped back onto the pillows, breathing ragged. After a moment he said, weakly, “You bastard.”

Tae’thelan lifted his head from the sheets where he had come to rest, half-exhausted with effort and desire. “Is that how you thank all your lovers?”

“You did that on purpose. The whole camp will have heard!” Rommath’s voice became more of an angry hiss as he began to recover from his orgasm.

“They’ll have just thought it was a coyote,” Tae’thelan said, immediately realising that he had made a terrible mistake.

“No they won’t!” Rommath raised his head to look at him incredulously. “They’ll have known exactly what it was. Even your people aren’t that simple.” He huffed and rolled over, taking most of the blankets with him. “I’m going to sleep. Disturb me and I will be displeased.” His tone made it abundantly clear that he was exacting punishment for the perceived humiliation.

Tae’thelan stared helplessly at Rommath’s back. His erection was so swollen and needy as to be painful and the man was just leaving him like this? “You’re cruel,” he said, too full of lust to sound angry.

“So it is said.” Rommath’s figure remained still under the blankets; he didn’t even turn to look at him.

“You’re not going to–?”

“No.” Impatient, contemptuous. Only Rommath could sound like that with one single word.

A fresh flush of shame washed over Tae’thelan. Was it so easy for Rommath to discard him like this, after he’d let him use his body so? Foolish, foolish, to have come back to him. How desperate he must seem.

 _I cannot stay here,_ he thought abruptly, pushing himself off the futon and rising, sucking air through his teeth at the cold that suddenly bit at him. He would not share a bed – his bed! – with someone who scorned him, and he certainly would not deal with the dark throbbing in his groin while lying next to someone who considered it his punishment. Pride was in short supply in recent days, but he could still clothe himself in the tatters.

Rommath lifted his head and turned back over to scrutinise Tae’thelan in the candlelight. “What are you doing?”

“Going somewhere I won’t disturb you.” He reached for his trousers, the hairs on his arms and legs rising and prickling in the frigid air.

Rommath’s eyes ran up and down the long, lean lines of Tae’thelan’s form, skin flickering with shadows. “Come back to bed,” he said, sitting up and placing a hand on the spot Tae’thelan had just vacated.

“So you can take more satisfaction in frustrating me? No. I shall find somewhere else to sleep.”

“With your cock sticking up like that? Don’t be ridiculous. Come back here. Pleasure yourself for me.” Rommath’s eyes shone with amusement, his tone disarmingly gentle.

 _You’re not even going to touch me?_ Tae’thelan thought in dismay, both at Rommath’s mocking offer and at himself for considering it anyway.  _Just let me go, damn you. Why won’t you let me go?_ Always, Rommath brought him back, just before it was too late, just before Tae’thelan finally mustered the courage to take the first step out of the labyrinth of his feelings. He shrugged his clothes off and slid back between the sheets, pretending that this was a decision he had made himself.  _Light guide me, for once more I am lost._

The blankets were still warm. They felt good against Tae’thelan’s skin, soft and heavy, complicit in Rommath’s subterfuge. His body sought Rommath’s of its own accord, the heat and the contact a primal, intimate delight.  _I should have left,_ he thought as Rommath ran a strong, warm hand over his chest.  _I should have left him wrong-footed and alone._ Impossible, though, to leave Rommath alone. His presence commanded reverence, respect. His disapproval was shattering, his praise euphoric. Tae’thelan had never had to work so hard for affection, and winning it was intoxicating. Intoxicating and dangerous. Sooner or later Rommath would discard him once he found more appealing prey, and Tae’thelan would be shamed and alone.

Almost as though Rommath could sense Tae’thelan’s melancholy he leaned over and pressed a kiss to his lips, almost tender. Tae’thelan followed as Rommath pulled away, mouth hungry and insistent, and Rommath allowed himself to be pulled back down and caressed by needy hands. He shouldn’t still want him, Tae’thelan knew, but Rommath’s body was warm and thick and magnificent, and he so smelled of sex that he just wanted to bury his face in his underarm and inhale until his lungs were as full of Rommath as his heart was.

“Touch me,” he begged, so close still that their lips were nearly touching. Rommath’s jaw worked, as though he were considering something, and then he smiled, a playful smirk that made Tae’thelan’s heart flip and his cock throb. Taking Tae’thelan’s hand by the wrist he guided it down to his poor, swollen erection, and closed their hands around it. Tae’thelan hated himself for the relieved gasp that escaped his throat; it was supposed to be Rommath’s hand, not his own, but his body didn’t care.

“I believe I made it clear that I won’t tonight,” Rommath said, amusement still playing over his lips, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I don’t reward bad behaviour.”

 _You condescending bastard!_ Before Tae’thelan could voice his displeasure, however, Rommath slowly, agonisingly moved both their hands up and down Tae’thelan’s shaft, and it felt so exquisitely, pathetically good that arguing seemed a fool’s game.

“Touch yourself. I want to see you come.” Rommath trailed his hand up Tae’thelan’s body, his fingers coming to rest on Tae’thelan’s mouth, still burning hot from the friction of Rommath’s cock earlier.

To his great embarrassment Tae’thelan found himself licking at Rommath’s fingertips as he began to stroke himself. His hand felt light without Rommath’s guiding it, but he soon settled into a familiar rhythm, too wound up to bother teasing himself. The whole night had been a tease, ending in this acute agony where he was taking instructions from Rommath, too lusty to rebel or keep from spilling his pride all over the sheets. Everything ached: his cock, red and swollen; his balls, heavy and sore and tight; his body, taut with arousal and the unrelenting beat of his heart. It would not be long until he came – it was painfully inevitable, and Rommath’s eyes upon him inflamed him in a strange, self-conscious way that he did not understand.

Rommath slipped a finger into his mouth and he couldn’t stop himself from sucking at it, even now wishing it were Rommath’s cock. Sucking, fucking, licking, thrusting – Tae’thelan wanted it, needed it, and Rommath had denied him.  _Must he always be in control? Is that why he insisted I stay?_ The more he thought about it the more likely it seemed.  _I will wrest it back,_ he promised himself. Rommath  _would_  respect him. If a show of power was what was required then he would have it.

Hauling himself up on his elbows, Tae’thelan turned around and swung a leg over Rommath’s torso, pushing him down by the shoulders. Though he was slim, Tae’thelan was tall, broad-shouldered, and had done well by his years of outdoor work. Sitting on Rommath’s chest he was able to use his weight to keep him from moving without a real struggle, which Rommath seemed uninterested in starting.

“I’m not sucking your cock tonight, Bloodwatcher,” Rommath said, trying to regain his decorum despite Tae’thelan being right in his face, hot and practically dripping. He wet his lips reflexively as he looked from Tae’thelan’s cock to his face and back again. “Get off me.”

 _Can’t stop looking at it, can you?_ Though Rommath protested, his colour rose and his pupils darkened, eyes glowing faintly in the candlelight. He wet his lips again and swallowed.  _But I’m not fighting you, not tonight._ Rommath seemed the type to enjoy rougher play, but Tae’thelan would not force him without prior agreement or invitation.  _A strange form of gentleman,_ he thought as he pressed the head of his cock to Rommath’s lips and trailed it across like lipstick, his arousal slick and glossy. Rommath’s eyes widened, but before he could react further Tae’thelan withdrew and couldn’t help a smirk as Rommath’s tongue darted out to taste him on his lips.

“You wanted to see me come,” Tae’thelan said, holding Rommath’s gaze as he took himself in hand once more, sighing faintly in relief at the renewed stimulation. A few vigorous pumps and he was gone, finally, finally, over the edge into paradise and ecstasy, made all the sweeter for the look on Rommath’s face as he coated him with his pleasure, each spurt a mark of his ownership and power. He’d had far better climaxes, but none like this that had involved outraged, golden-skinned beauties with his come dripping down their cheeks.

“You dare!” Rommath hissed as Tae’thelan’s muscles began to unwind. He spoiled the effect somewhat by licking away the drops around his mouth, his tongue moving of its own accord.

“You asked for it,” Tae’thelan said hazily, transfixed by Rommath’s debasement. His jet-black hair, his eyebrows, his cheeks, his lips – all Tae’thelan’s, and all irresistible. Leaning down he lapped at the seed on Rommath’s cheek, groaning deep in his throat, revelling in the shame and the debauchery.

“You’re disgusting,” Rommath said weakly, though he too gave a groan of pleasure as Tae’thelan captured his mouth and kissed him, tongues sliding together, eager to share in Tae’thelan’s climax. His hands grabbed Tae’thelan’s ass and then they were grasping at each other, licking at each other, Tae’thelan scooping come off Rommath’s face and feeding it to him finger by finger.

 _If this is disgusting then let us wallow in filth together._ Tae’thelan’s loins ached, from his long frustration, his orgasm, the desire for Rommath that even now remained unsated. Rommath’s tongue on his fingers was at once sensual and obscene, and Tae’thelan could have sworn that Rommath had wiggled his toes in delight, though of course he would deny it. Another kiss, another finger-lick, and then another kiss, languid and heavy and weighted with depraved devotion.  _Who is this man who kisses you? Surely not me; surely not me._

“You got it in my  _hair_ ,” Rommath complained as the frenzy quietened and Tae’thelan sagged on top of him.

“I’ll wash it for you tomorrow. No one will ever know.”

“You have nerve.”

“And evidently you enjoyed it.” Tae’thelan could not help the tinge of smugness in his voice.

Rommath apparently had no clever answer for that. “You’re heavy,” he said quietly after a while. “We should sleep.”

Tae’thelan forced himself to roll off Rommath, body worn and tired and sodden with sex. Missing the skin contact he moved so that he was resting against Rommath again, his warmth and scent a drowsy comfort.  _I should say something,_ he thought, wanting to be a solicitous, considerate lover, but the words and the urge slipped away into the fog of slumber. Within moments he was asleep, breathing deep and even, a heavy weight at Rommath’s side.

Rommath stared up at the ceiling of the tent for a while and then snapped his fingers, extinguishing the guttering candle. “Good night, Tae’thelan,” he murmured. He did not move away.

 

***

 

 The next morning Tae’thelan woke alone to sunlight streaming through the pavilion’s skylight. He sat up quickly, mildly alarmed, sure that something had woken him. His eyes came to rest on Rommath, who was lounging in Tae’thelan’s bath, book in hand, water steaming.

“Oh, did I wake you?” Rommath said, the opposite of sincere. “I dropped the soap, how clumsy of me.”

“I would believe many things of you, but clumsiness is not one of them.” Tae’thelan yawned, rolled off the futon, and slipped into his dressing robe. The temperature in the tent was almost tolerable, and the day would warm quickly once the sand and rock began to bake. “I take it you grew tired of waiting for me?”

Rommath waved the book at him. “Not  _that_  tired, but as your superior I must keep a keen eye out for indolence.” His ear twitched in amusement.

“Oh, do stop with that nonsense. And be careful – you don’t want to ruin your book.”

“ _Your_  book.” Rommath looked centuries younger when he smiled. It did funny things to Tae’thelan’s heart. “I didn’t know you were a C. Brightdawn fan – you have quite the collection.” He raised an eyebrow salaciously. “One can tell a lot about a man by his Brightdawns. Most instructive.”

‘C. Brightdawn’ was the pen name of Quel’thalas’s best – and most prolific – harlequin romance novelist. Their identity was a closely guarded secret, and the books were passed around in brown paper bags by giggling apprentices everywhere. Spanning literally hundreds of titles, there was a Brightdawn for almost any desire one might have. Tae’thelan, otherwise a keen appreciator of the classics, had amassed an impressive collection since setting up camp in the Badlands several years ago.

“‘The Magistrix’s Apprentice’,” Rommath continued, flashing the cover of the book at Tae’thelan. “This one seemed like your favourite. Who knew that the High Examiner had a proclivity for powerful women?”

Tae’thelan crossed over to the bath to snatch the book back. “Give that here!” The book was indeed Tae’thelan’s favourite read, battered beyond its years. It evoked fond memories of Magistrix Amberlight, who had taught a strapping young Tae’thelan how to please a woman many centuries ago. It had been one of the most exciting summers of his life, and the beginning of his reputation as a man who knew how to show a lady a good time. “You’re going to make me regret swapping heaving bosoms for throbbing members.”

Rommath held the book out over the other side of the bath, out of Tae’thelan’s reach. “No one ever regrets a night with me,” he said, a shrewd smile playing over his lips. “Especially not you, I think.”

Tae’thelan flushed and bristled. “You’re awfully full of yourself for someone who rolled over after he got his.”

“I’m generous when I’m offered the respect I deserve. Much like the inspirational Magistrix here.” Rommath tapped the cover of the book with a long, graceful finger. “Now, be a good apprentice and wash my hair. I’ve waited for you long enough.” He handed the book back to Tae’thelan to put away and let himself sink further into the tub, his hair fanning out into the water like ripples of dark silk.

“I wouldn’t call what’s in your hair respect, but you enjoyed  _that_ ,” Tae’thelan said, shelving the book. As he turned back, the tableau of Rommath reclining in the cast iron bath drove all comments about apprentices from his mind.  _He’s beautiful,_ he thought, with an ache in his heart that felt like vertigo, a crucible of desire and frustration.  _After all this time, why him? Why is he, so undeserving of it, the one to wake my heart?_ Even the arcane tattoos that Tae’thelan hated were beautiful on Rommath. As lithe and powerful and striped as a tiger, and just as dangerous.  _He will hurt me eventually_ , Tae’thelan thought, but still he returned to the bath and to Rommath.

“I enjoyed learning that you have a filthy side,” Rommath said, eyes bright and alert despite the lulling heat of the water, carefully assessing. “That doesn’t mean I’d want you to do it again.”

“You wiggled your toes. It looked like enjoyment to me.”

“I do not – and never will –  _wiggle_.”

“In the same way that you do not, and never will, snore?” Tae’thelan said, ducking down to inspect the selection of hair care products that Rommath had arrayed beside the bath. Rather more than a splash of water followed him, soaking his hair and the back of his robe.

“Oops.”

“You’re all clumsiness this morning,” Tae’thelan drawled as he rose, treating Rommath to a look usually reserved for unimpressive Reliquary apprentices.

“And you’re all talk,” Rommath complained, flicking water at him again disdainfully. “Get to it before I freeze to death.”

“You’re in no danger of that – light, the water’s scalding!” Tae’thelan pulled a face as he dipped a finger in. “Grand Magister Rommath, expending his vast and impressive arcane energies on heating and reheating his bathwater. I’m impressed.”

“Oh, as if you don’t do the same; assuming you don’t just take dust baths in tombs, of course.”

“I’m not a chinchilla,” Tae’thelan said, shrugging out of his robe and letting it pool on the floor, still wet from Rommath’s splash.

“A shame, you’d make a lovely coat.” Rommath looked pleased, presumably at the possibility of wearing his enemies as a warning to others. “Wait, what are you doing?”

Tae’thelan slid into the bath opposite Rommath, pulling a face again at the heat of the steaming water. “Joining you. You soaked my robe, and I refuse to stand behind you and wash your hair naked like a–”

“Like a pliable, obedient servant?” Rommath smirked and rubbed a foot against Tae’thelan’s thigh in crooked affection. “Give it time.” He surged up from the bath, arms flexing, water dripping down his body like it too wanted to touch him, love him, possess him.

 _I am already your servant,_ Tae’thelan thought, and his admiration clearly showed on his face because Rommath’s smirk intensified before he turned around and sat back down to settle in between Tae’thelan’s long legs. Tae’thelan could not help himself from leaning forwards and kissing Rommath’s neck, warm and damp and precious in a way he could not adequately describe. Wrapping his arms around Rommath’s waist, hands resting on his tensed stomach, he kissed him again, and then again. He smelled like sweat and musk and the jasmine bath oil that was sinking beautifully into his skin. Rommath leaned back into the embrace, and Tae’thelan was glad for the hand that Rommath placed on his own, preventing him from moving anywhere more enticing.

“Wash,” Rommath commanded, a tinge of reluctance in his voice. He scooted forwards and leaned back so that his hair was easily accessible. Tae’thelan gently wet it in the bath water, wondering how they had come to this point: how Rommath had come to trust him, even in this small, personal thing, and how Tae’thelan had come to desire to serve him so intimately. Could there be other mornings like this, full of warmth and teasing? Other mornings, where Rommath would read aloud the latest outrages in the paper and Tae’thelan would vex him by solving crossword clues that he could not? It seemed a small, foolish dream, but also a cosy, bright one.  _A week ago I hated you._   _How fickle my heart is._

Rommath hummed happily as Tae’thelan began massaging shampoo into his scalp, thick and rich and outrageously expensive. “You have good hands. I should have you do this more often.” His eyes were closed, his face so relaxed that he almost looked a different man. Could someone  wicked really enjoy such an innocent pleasure? Perhaps Rommath had changed from those ruthless, fel-filled days. _Or perhaps he is more complicated than I’d allowed._ The thought was as complex and unsettling as their relationship.  _He speaks of the future so casually._ Tae’thelan knew better than to read anything into Rommath’s throwaway comments, but still he hoped. He wanted to wash Rommath’s hair again, wanted to bring him chocolates when he was ill, wanted to be there to share in his triumphs and tragedies both.

_When did anyone last care for you? Ask you about your day, hold you when you needed comfort? Do you ever even admit that you need it? Would you accept it from me even if you did?_

“I am a fool,” he murmured, aghast when he realised he had given voice to a thought he had intended to remain private.

“That I already knew,” Rommath said, opening one dark, interested eye. “What makes you say it now in particular?”

Of course Rommath had heard. What to do? Tell the truth and risk humiliation? Spin a falsehood and miss an opportunity for intimacy? Though he was famed for his charm and golden tongue, Tae’thelan was horribly, agonisingly adrift with Rommath. Sweet, honeyed words surely would not do. The very idea seemed ludicrous.

“I find myself becoming more fond of you than is wise,” Tae’thelan said, eventually settling for truthfulness of a sort. If Rommath scoffed at him then at least he could leave before he was in too deep, though, like so much in his life of late, he knew this for a lie. He had too much invested  already in a future where he might again regale a delightfully and unexpectedly boyish Rommath, leaning forward in his chair, whiskey forgotten, with tales of his more exciting expeditions. He wanted it badly, and every gentleman adventurer took risks, didn’t he?

Rommath did not laugh, though neither did he immediately respond. With shaky hands and a shakier heart Tae’thelan conjured a jug of pure, fresh water with which to rinse Rommath’s hair, needing to fill the expanding silence with activity lest he fracture with uncertainty and nerves. Washing the shampoo away was like watching his own confidence: diluted and swept down to join the dregs of everything else Rommath had made use of and then cast away.

Conditioner next, as rich and expensive as the shampoo. He worked it methodically into Rommath’s hair, noticing a few greys but keeping that to himself. Tae’thelan did not want to start a conversation about age, not when he was centuries older than Rommath. He was ageing gracefully, more gracefully than he deserved, truly, but still there were more lines every year.

“An affliction many have suffered,” Rommath eventually said, his voice strange, as though he had never used it before. Tae’thelan didn’t know whether to wish that he could see Rommath’s face or be glad that he couldn’t. Rommath’s shoulders were tense, and he seemed on the verge of saying something else when the door flap of the pavilion opened a crack and an earnest-faced Reliquary agent peered around it.

“High Examiner, I’ve brought you and the Grand Magister...  oh. Oh! I’ll just… leave the tray here. Sorry. Sorry.” Her eyes widened as she took in the scene of Tae’thelan massaging conditioner into Rommath’s hair, and widened further as she fully absorbed their nakedness. “Sorry,” she said again too loudly and then fled, leaving the breakfast tray just inside the door.

“What was that?!” Rommath hissed, turning his head so sharply that his hair stung his back in biting little whips. “Do your goons not know to afford you privacy when you have guests? Do they at least know how to be discreet?”

The sound of muffled laughter from outside told them both that Tae’thelan’s goons did not, in fact, know how to be discreet.

Rommath’s nostrils flared and his eyes blazed, cheeks uncharacteristically flushed. “Leave me,” he commanded. “I shall finish my own hair. Go, and take your band of incompetents in hand. I’m sure you’re well-practised at damage control by now.” When Tae’thelan did not immediately move he spat, petulantly: “Go! Get out!”

“Is being seen with me really so humiliating?” Tae’thelan flung back as he climbed out of the bath, embarrassment and hurt steaming off him as he spitefully took the towel Rommath had laid out for himself.

Rommath’s look was both scathing and incredulous. “How could it not be? Not only are you a ridiculous dandy of a man, but you’re so intent on flaunting your ‘conquest’ to your underlings that you disgrace yourself, and me by association. No more. I will not be used in such a manner, especially not by you.”

“You think I want you so I can improve my  _social status_? Are you really that arrogant? No, no, of course you are.” Tae’thelan knew that he shouldn’t be engaging Rommath like this but he couldn’t stop himself. All his feelings, confused and desperate and misshapen as they were, dismissed, crumpled up and thrown into the wastebin of grasping social climbers – it was insulting, intolerable, utterly unbearable. His temper was a molten, writhing thing, boiling his heart and churning lava in his gut. “I thought I might be able to love you, and all you care about is being seen in the bath! Seen with  _me_ , embarrassment that I am!”

Rommath’s mouth fell open in surprise, a look that Tae’thelan abstractly noted he had never seen before.

“So I suppose you’re right, I  _am_  ridiculous,” Tae’thelan added, pulling his clothes on and smoothing his own damp, mostly unwashed hair into a ponytail at the nape of his neck. “Because who else but a fool would feel this way?”

“No one,” Rommath said, voice quiet and brittle, like ice underfoot.

“Exactly,” Tae’thelan said, hardly hearing, gathering up his pack and notes in a flurry of angered activity. “I’ll talk to my staff. They won’t speak of it again, and neither will I.”

The tent was so quiet that Tae’thelan could hear his own heart thumping in his chest. Leaving was heady and frightening, and he knew that he could not let it reflect on his face, not in front of his staff. This day – his day – was supposed to be a triumph, full of discovery and glory. And so it would be, he vowed, Rommath or not.

But still he wondered:  _How quickly will my heart be swallowed, if I leave it with you amongst the sands?_


	2. Chapter 2

Tae’thelan basked in satisfaction as he gazed around the antechamber of the tomb, holding his torch aloft to better admire the exquisitely engraved walls and statues. The day had started off wretchedly, but this ritual of his was comforting and invigorating both, inhaling the atmosphere and history and holding it in his lungs before striding forth in glory to divest the inner tomb of its treasures. Rommath be damned: his work was a more agreeable partner in every way.

Despite this thought, Tae’thelan contrived to catch Rommath’s eye by accident, hoping to read in his face admiration and contrition. _He’ll see how little in need of ‘conquests’ I am!_

Rommath, however, was nowhere to be seen.

Tae’thelan addressed his assistant, affecting a nonchalance he didn’t feel. “Miss Sunglow, do you know the whereabouts of the Grand Magister?”

Elaria Sunglow’s pretence that she had not seen them both sharing a bath earlier was truly admirable. _I should give her a bonus after this._ “I think he’s gone ahead of you, High Examiner.”

“What?!” _That blasted man! Must he be in control of_ everything _?!_

“Don’t–!” Tae’thelan cried out, breaking into a run after Rommath. His long legs ate up the distance, satchel bouncing, but he was too late. Rommath had already set the keystone into the enticing-looking pedestal in the centre of the chamber, and even as Tae’thelan reached out to grab his arm there came a scraping, rumbling, ominous groan from behind them that culminated in a violent slam of stone: the doorway had been blocked by a great slab that, weary experience whispered to him, would extend all the way down the twenty foot passageway.

“You idiot!” Tae’thelan rounded on Rommath, mouth twisted in a fury kindled by frustration and thwarted love. “You imbecile! We’re trapped in here now, and for what – so you could play at archaeology and show everyone how menial and unnecessary my job is? Would it have hurt you to take thirty seconds and wait for me?!”

“If I’d waited for you I’d be a desiccated husk by now,” Rommath snapped. “Since when does a magister whimper about a little stone? You’ve grown slow and soft, playing with trowels in the sand.” He turned to face the door and lazily waved a hand, enunciating a fire spell with dramatic irony. His face changed from surprised to indignant as the spell failed to cast and the door remained untouched.

“Slow and soft, you said?”

“Smugness doesn’t suit you. Clearly you know what’s happened, so fix it.”

“What _happened_ ,” Tae’thelan ground out, “is that an arrogant fool of a magister fell for the oldest trick in the most cliched of books and tripped the tomb’s defence mechanism.” He gestured to the slab blocking the doorway. “Not only is there likely twenty feet of stone between us and the rest of the expedition, there’s a potent anti-magic field as well, since the artifact contained here is so valuable. We’re stuck here until someone fetches some goblins from Fuselight.”

“Ridiculous! Are you telling me that the High Examiner of the Reliquary is advocating sitting on our asses until some mangy goblins come to save us? What are we paying you for?!” Rommath’s voice sounded curiously shrill. _Is he_ afraid _?_ Tae’thelan wondered incredulously. _Grand Magister Rommath, claustrophobic?_

“You’re _paying_ me to research. To proceed and explore with delicacy, with _finesse_. If you’d let me go first I would have placed the keystone over there, in the relief that doesn’t scream ‘pick me, I’m a trap’.”

“It didn’t _scream_ anything.” Rommath crossed his arms squarely over his chest. Angry though he was, Tae’thelan still couldn’t help remembering them wrapped around him, strong and grasping. “If you hadn’t been so insufferable today I might not have been in such a hurry to escape your company.”

“You mean if you hadn’t insulted me and spurned my affections I would be in a better mood!” Tae’thelan spat haughtily. “Light knows why I ever thought we could be more than a few clandestine tumbles.”

“Because you recognise quality, even if your other tastes are lacking.” Rommath’s eyes darted about the walls and ceiling, and his crossed arms began to seem more like he was hugging himself.

“Lacking? I’m not the one lauding Duskhallow’s reimagining of ‘Eshelara Laronda’le’ as a triumph, you absolute philistine!” Tae’thelan caught himself then, aghast that he was arguing about the opera while trapped in a tomb. He sighed wearily and massaged his forehead. “Never mind. I’ll investigate further, see if I can get us out of here earlier, and you can… well. Do whatever you fancy as long as you don’t touch anything.”

“I’m not a child,” Rommath snapped, in a tone rather reminiscent of one.

“Indeed you are not. So comport yourself like an adult and allow the expert to do his work.”

“Expert? You mean ‘patronising blowhard’.” Rommath’s ears twitched in irritation but he did as he was bid for once, taking up the torch he had left beside the altar and stalking off to another part of the tomb, his countenance an icy contrast to the fiery glow that softened the stark inkiness of his hair and cast his face into shadow.

Watching Rommath leave, Tae’thelan felt a pang of guilt at sending him off on his own when he was clearly agitated and perhaps afraid. A week ago he would have rejoiced in his rival’s weakness and exploited it mercilessly, but Rommath wasn’t that man anymore, and neither was Tae’thelan. _You hurt me, but I do not wish to reverse the knife._

“Rommath,” he said into the gloom.

The torch stopped moving and Rommath turned to look at him, face unreadable in the flickering shadows. His silence was an impatient, haughty thing, stretching uncomfortably between them.

“You could join me. In looking around.” How inadequate that sounded, and yet what else could he say?

_I don’t want to argue anymore._

There was a pause, and then: “So you’ve decided you want someone to hold the torch for you while you work? Lazy, as expected.” Rommath’s tone was scathing, but he looked pleased as he strolled back over to Tae’thelan. Clearly he enjoyed being asked back so awkwardly after being sent away, but was there something in his eyes besides smugness?

 _Relief,_ Tae’thelan realised. _He’s relieved to not be alone._ _He does not like the dark and the stone._

“I don’t like to work alone. I’d appreciate the company.” Though calculated to put Rommath more at ease, this wasn’t entirely an untruth: Tae’thelan did always enjoy an audience to witness his triumphs and a companion to whom he could narrate his work. Not that Rommath was likely to be as admiring as his usual assistants; the man was entirely too used to being the cleverest person in the room.

 _His arrogance is alluring, though,_ a traitorous part of him whispered. How he wished that were not so! Arrogance was a chronic condition amongst magisters, and until recently Tae’thelan had  found it distasteful and deeply unimpressive. Oh, the magisters of Silvermoon had always suffered from inflated egos – it came with the territory when one could lay claim to the elements and the arcane – but after the fall of Quel’thalas the competition for power and status had boiled over into clandestine hostility and rivalries that weakened them all.

 _But Rommath,_ came the whisper. _Rommath is all that he claims to be. You believe in his confidence, in his strength._

And he did – oh, he did. Despite Rommath’s previous transgressions, Tae’thelan _believed_ in him. He hadn’t always, of course – there had been a time when Tae’thelan would have wished Rommath hauled before the Regent Lord and publicly disgraced for his sins – but his hatred had tempered since Rommath had chosen his people over his prince. The sacrifice had clearly ravaged him, and yet he still served. They were on the same side, however strange and nebulous that sometimes felt. And, however strange and perverse it _now_ felt, Tae’thelan believed that Rommath’s strength would save them, make them whole again. Somehow, he had ceased to be afraid for the future of the Sin’dorei.

Oh, Lor’themar played a part too – Tae’thelan had great respect for the man – but the strongest fire mage that Azeroth had ever seen, channelling all his passion and might into the survival of their people? The sheer force of his will could move mountains – might one day force the world to bend to his desires.

Ears flushing, Tae’thelan knew that he, at least,would bend to Rommath’s desires.

 _I could love you, if only you'd let me_. Every time Tae'thelan dared to believe that Rommath held him in some sort of esteem, any kind of esteem, Rommath would lash him with that poisoned, acerbic tongue, and he would castigate himself for being sentimental in a relationship so clearly of convenience. He should stop it, he knew, leave Rommath to marinade in his own bitterness alone. It was clearly the kindest option for his heart, or would have been, had his heart still been bright and whole. As it was, he still bled inside from the fall of Silvermoon, the loss of his wife and daughter a constant drip, drip, drip under his skin, and Rommath, fiery, burning Rommath, was the only one who had ever come close to cauterising it.

_Burn me, love me, consume even my ashes, until I am born anew. A phoenix in mortal form, even my brilliant plumage dull in the face of your magnificence._

How could a man so cold have such fire within? It was barely conceivable, and yet he had felt it, revelled and luxuriated in it, when their bodies had come together in heat and passion in Rommath’s bedchamber days before.

 _I said I would never speak of this again, but how can I not?_ _How can I not?_ Tae’thelan’s was not a soul content to pine wistfully from afar. There was no beauty to be found in an aching heart, not when that heart was his own.

 _At least there will be one triumph today_ , he thought, holding the ornately-carved keystone in his hands, standing before the relief in the wall.

“Now, _this_ is where the key should have been placed,” Tae’thelan said, attempting not to place blame on Rommath, though he looked sour anyway. “Behold, as the Sceptre of the Stars is revealed to us!”

There came a low, scraping noise as a stone panel in the wall next to them ground up into the ceiling.

“Come, come!” Tae’thelan urged, clasping Rommath’s shoulder in excitement before realising what he had done and swiftly removing his hand. “What have we here…” he murmured to himself as he surged into the tiny room.

“Apparently, nothing,” Rommath said, standing behind him holding the torches.

Tae’thelan stared in horror at the dais, the Sceptre conspicuous by its absence, flanked by toppled candles and – a broken pickaxe?

“There appears to be a small tunnel behind it,” Rommath supplied unhelpfully, pressing closer for a better look.

“Yes, thank you, I can see that!” Tae’thelan grabbed one of the torches from Rommath’s hand and clambered over the dais, too aggravated to be careful.

The tunnel was small and inexpertly formed. The stone wall, jagged and broken, gave way to softer rock, and the tunnel itself trailed away into the darkness where the light of the torch did not reach.

“Impossible!” he cried, swearing viciously and then turning back to Rommath. “No one could have known this location! Years, it’s taken, years! And some dwarf or goblin or trogg or light knows what has just _stumbled_ on it, stolen it! Outrageous! Inconceivable! Utterly intolerable!”

Never had an expedition gone so badly. The disappointment and humiliation were physically painful, clenching at his heart and shaking his body. It wasn’t enough to have lost the artifact, no – Rommath of course had to be the sole witness to his failure. And here he was, scrutinising him, no doubt a scathing insult on his lips ready to further twist the knife.

“I’m sorry, Tae’thelan, for your disappointment.” Rommath’s words were quiet and sincere, and Tae’thelan didn’t know what to do with them.

“Leave me for a while.” Tae’thelan didn’t trust his voice enough to say more than that. _Leave me to my misery._ The worst thing was, he didn’t know which he mourned more - the loss of the artifact that could have saved their people, or the love that could have saved himself.

* * *

Eventually, Tae’thelan sought out Rommath again. The dark and the solitude had made his self-flagellation worse, and his selfishness in leaving Rommath, suspected claustrophobe, to fend for himself ravaged him with shame.

He sat down beside him, companionably close but not quite touching. “What a mess,” he said woefully.

“I should never have come on this light-forsaken expedition,” Rommath groaned, resting his head back against the cold stone of the wall.

“Why did you?”

“I wanted to see your true colours.”

“My true–?”

“I needed to know your true motive in coming to me. You hate everything about me and you’ve never been shy in saying so, so why do I keep finding you in my bed? I’m handsome, I know” – Rommath gave a weary, self-deprecating laugh – “but so is half of Silvermoon. Are you an assassin? Are you snooping for gossip to cause a scandal? Are you buttering me up for a favour? I thought to force your hand by taking that damned artifact, but you’re still acting just the same and just as strange as you ever were. What do you _want_ , Tae’thelan?”

“I want you,” Tae’thelan said, taking Rommath’s hand and bringing it gently to his lips. The back of Rommath’s hand was soft and warm as he kissed it. “I said it earlier – I think I could fall in love with you, if you’d only let me.”

“You’re joking.” Rommath turned his head to look at Tae’thelan, eyes scrutinising his face for any sign of insincerity. “I don’t know what your plan is, but piling on the fake romance isn’t going to work.”

“Oh, I’d be far smoother if it were fake,” Tae’thelan said with a rueful sigh. “I’m supposed to be one of Silvermoon’s charmers, but all I do with you is blunder. I – I really – I mean, you’re fascinating to me. I want to know you. I want to know everything about you. Why you do what you do. Why you are who you are. How you’ve managed to survive. What your favourite colour is. Your favourite book. Why you insist on liking musicians who wouldn’t know talent if it smacked them in the face with a bassoon. Your hopes, your fears. Everything.”

Rommath laughed, a hesitant, nervous thing that sounded very small in the dark expanse of the tomb. “So you’re just a crazy stalker, then. That’s much easier to deal with.” He hadn’t yet taken his hand back.

“If I were an assassin I’d be a pretty terrible one. I keep confusing killing with fucking.” It was Tae’thelan’s turn to laugh now, resigned to how inept and graceless his confession of love was turning out, and to how he had no choice but to continue anyway.

“You’re so crude,” Rommath said, lips quirking. “Everyone thinks you’re so genteel, so elegant, but I’ve got you figured out.”

“You _make_ me crude,” Tae’thelan rejoindered, daring to put a hand on Rommath’s knee. “You’re so… you make me filthy. When I’m around you I can think of nothing but ravishing you…” He trailed off, suddenly self-conscious.

“It’s my raw, animal magnetism.”

“Yes, that. I just… I want you. In every way imaginable. And I’m coming on too strong, I know. I probably shouldn’t be coming on at all, truth be told. How unsuitable we are! And I know you don’t like me, I know you think I’m a fool, but at least after this is done and we get out of here we can go our separate ways and you won’t hear a peep out of me again.”

“Except in the assembly.”

“Except in the assembly,” Tae’thelan echoed, his heart falling at Rommath’s choice of focus. He’d hoped... “I can’t change my politics for an inappropriate infatuation.”

“Good. Your integrity is one of the better things about you.”

“I didn’t think that was something you valued,” Tae’thelan said, suddenly uncomfortable as he was reminded that Rommath and integrity were uneasy bedmates – that there had been a time, once, when he had done whatever it took to achieve his goals, however reprehensible. He should find it appalling – always _had_ found it appalling – and yet here he was, fascinated and enthralled.

“Don’t be glib; I was trying to pay you a compliment.” Rommath’s look was haughty, though his lips betrayed amusement. “You’d be surprised what I value.”

“Surprise me, then,” Tae’thelan said, eyes unexpectedly intense as he caught and held Rommath’s gaze. “What else do you value?” The glow of Rommath’s eyes was pronounced in the gloom, twisting Tae’thelan’s heart as he looked as deep as he dared. _Do you see the love in me? Will you allow it?_

Rommath looked away after a long moment, making a pretence of examining his nails. “And lose all of my mystery? You’ll have to work harder than that, Tae’thelan.”

When had Rommath stopped calling him Bloodwatcher? Did that mean what he hoped it meant?

“How hard will you allow me to work? I warn you, I’m relentless.” Giddiness filled him as he committed to the flirtation. The chase, the dance, the thrill of a possible conquest – he felt alive, masculine, virile, for this almost always led to seduction. Rarely did Tae’thelan ever leave a party alone… but would Rommath be so easy?

_Of course not. Have a care, Bloodwatcher._

“You are, aren’t you?” Rommath smirked. “Tell me: your performance last night – that wasn’t just to impress me? Am I to expect that level of enthusiasm again?” He smirked in amusement as he very deliberately appraised Tae’thelan’s lips.

Tae’thelan’s ears flushed and his eyes lidded as memories of Rommath thrusting into his mouth again and again washed through him, setting him alight. His cock stirred against the silk of his trousers. “When it comes to lovemaking, your pleasure is my pleasure.”

“Ha! Lovemaking. So romantic.” Rommath’s grin was wide and sardonic. “What on earth are you doing with me, then? I don’t do romance.” He reached out and squeezed Tae’thelan’s burgeoning erection as though to underline his point, eyes bold and challenging.

Tae’thelan grunted and couldn’t help himself from pushing into Rommath’s hand. “You’ve never been romanced by _me_ ,” he said, pressing his body against Rommath’s and kissing him, closed-mouthed and forceful, pulling away as soon as Rommath began to respond. “I’ll make you yearn for kisses.” He moistened his lips and dipped in again, pushing Rommath’s shoulders against the cold stone wall. _Hot. His lips are hot._

Rommath seemed committed to proving Tae’thelan wrong, his eyes open and tongue aggressive, but Tae’thelan pressed against him harder and pulled back every time he thrust his tongue into his mouth, only to redouble the soft, firm kisses, moist lips sliding and grazing. Every time Rommath pushed back Tae’thelan drew away and then claimed his mouth again. When Rommath’s hand dropped limply away from his crotch he knew he was winning him over, and when Rommath’s eyes fluttered closed and his chest heaved he knew that Rommath was his.

“Kiss me,” Tae’thelan murmured beside Rommath’s ear, biting the lobe. Rommath made a small, soft sound and his eyes flew open, glaring and embarrassed, but Tae’thelan simply kissed him once more, gazing at him with open desire. Rommath’s breathing hitched and quickened, his eyes lidded, and then he was kissing Tae’thelan back, rhythmic butterfly kisses that were soft and sensual and increasingly urgent.

Rommath’s lips were full and burning. Kissing him like this was erotic, painful, delicious.

“You’re ridiculous,” Rommath said brusquely, breathlessly, pushing Tae’thelan away. The set of his jaw was mutinous, though his pulse still fluttered and his legs had splayed apart.

“And you’re beautiful,” Tae’thelan said, kissing slowly down his neck and sliding a hand up under his robes. “Breathless from mere kisses – how unexpected.” His smile was thankfully hidden from sight as he moved back up to lick and nibble at Rommath’s ear, which twitched delightfully under his lips.

Despite his obvious pleasure, Rommath drew himself up, haughty and imperious. “I won’t be seduced like one of your simpering society ladies.”

Tae’thelan’s teeth were white and even as he bared them in a smile. “I intend to seduce you like the Grand Magister.” His hand closed around Rommath’s erection, slick and hot with his arousal. “Do you object?”

Rommath thrust up needily into Tae’thelan’s hand, sucking in a shaky breath between his teeth. “I believe you’re supposed to ask me that _before_ you start grasping at me.”

Tae’thelan slid his hand back up Rommath’s cock as slowly and agonisingly as he could, relishing the beautiful look of desire on his face. “Forgive me. Shall I stop, then?”

“No,” Rommath said gruffly, settling back against the wall and spreading his legs out wider. “Shut up and kiss me.”

A request like that could not be ignored. Leaning back in, his day-old stubble rasping against Rommath’s cheek, Tae’thelan crushed his mouth to Rommath’s, greedily meeting his tongue in a feverish, urgent kiss, wanton and desperate. His hand pumped Rommath’s cock to the rhythm of his tongue, thrusting in and out and pushing against Rommath’s own in a crude demonstration of what he intended to do with him after. The inelegance was shocking, almost shameful; he hadn’t kissed this aggressively since he’d been an over-eager adolescent. Rommath groaned against his mouth, however, urging him to go harder, faster, his hips bucking and his hands tearing clumsily at Tae’thelan’s belt.

 _Slow, I’m supposed to go slow,_ Tae’thelan half-managed to think, the words slipping away from him into the white-hot fog of his desire. He wanted to fuck him – hoist his legs over his shoulders and slam into him until he didn’t know where Rommath ended and he began. He wanted to fuck him til Rommath cried out again and again in painful ecstasy, only stopping when his voice gave out from sheer exhaustion.

 _Not now, not here, not like that_. He pulled away with a gasp, determined to master himself.

Rommath sagged back against the wall, eyes hazy. “So _this_ is romance.”

Tae’thelan laughed, the tension inside him unwinding. “Of a sort.”

“The sort where you fuck me with your tongue, yes.” Rommath’s ears twitched in amusement.

Rommath’s easy bluntness inspired Tae’thelan to respond in kind. “Would you like that?”

“What?” A splutter. “ _You_?”

“You think I’m too prudish? After last night?” Tae’thelan laughed again, though he flushed, too, at the memory of feverishly licking his own come from Rommath’s face and sharing it with him. “Let me – I beg you. Nothing would please me more.”

“I find _that_ hard to believe,” Rommath said, finishing the job of opening Tae’thelan’s trousers, wetting his lips as Tae’thelan’s erection sprang free into the cool air to rest upon his belly, framed by soft blond curls. “You wouldn’t rather this?” Ducking his head, he gave Tae’thelan’s cock an exploratory lick, slow and wet and maddening. He hummed with approval and pulled Tae’thelan’s foreskin, velvety in his hand, all the way back to completely expose the head, giving it a long, sloppy kiss that made Tae’thelan moan. Rommath’s lush mouth was too much; too much. _Oh, how I want you._

“No, I – today’s about you. I want to pleasure you.”

“Today’s about me? Are you _still_ harbouring notions of romance?” Rommath tried to smother his laughter by pressing his lips to Tae’thelan’s cock again. The gesture was surprisingly arousing; Rommath was distressingly handsome when he laughed, and even more so when he was playing with Tae’thelan’s cock while he did so. It would be so easy to just let Rommath wrap his mouth around him and succumb to the attention. But no, he couldn’t: he was determined to convince Rommath that this – whatever this was, whatever this had become – was more than just lust, more than just sexual tension.

“Always,” he said, forcing himself to pull away before Rommath’s hot lips threatened to steal him away. “So much so, in fact, that I’m going to place you on a pedestal.” He pushed himself up and extended a hand to Rommath, who raised a single eyebrow as he allowed himself to be pulled up off the cold, hard floor.

Rommath’s gaze flicked over to the dais and back to Tae’thelan’s face, golden in the torch light. “Defiling ancient ruins? I _have_ misjudged you.”

“Well, it hasn’t proved useful in any other respect,” Tae’thelan said, still indignant at the lack of the sceptre. Ordinarily he would be horrified by the suggestion, but this particular site had forfeited its right to veneration. It deserved to be desecrated. “No lover of mine will be lying on a stone floor if I can help it.”

“Aren’t you going to carry me?” Rommath asked sweetly as Tae’thelan led him by the hand. “In the interest of romance and all that.”

“I’m sure you jest,” Tae’thelan said, expression deadpan, “but you’re quite right, I should treat you to the whole experience.” He had never carried a man to bed before, and Rommath's figure was decidedly that of a war-mage, but Tae'thelan could not turn down a request, and he especially could not suggest that Rommath might be too heavy. All his hard work as an archaeologist had to be worth something, despite his fondness for levitation, which owed more to a distaste for sand in his shoes than a dislike of physical activity.

"I expect swooning," Tae'thelan grunted as he lifted Rommath awkwardly into his arms, barely managing not to drop him. _You_ like _his physique_ , he reminded himself as he staggered towards the dais, feeling ridiculous with the front of his trousers still open and his cock rubbing against Rommath's thankfully-clothed ass with every step. _This is what happens when you start making speeches, Bloodwatcher._

"I'm not sure swooning's quite appropriate when you're dampening my robe." Rommath's voice was laced with amusement; he was clearly enjoying himself, as evidenced by his attempt to wiggle against Tae'thelan's unfortunate erection. "I _am_ impressed, though. I thought for sure you were going to drop me."

 _I still might._ Tae'thelan winced as he mustered one last effort and swept Rommath onto the dais, caring not one whit for the candlesticks and ornaments that clattered to the floor. "There," he said, lacing his long, strong fingers together and lazily stretching his arms above his head. "How does it feel to be swept off your feet?"

Rommath smirked. "Precarious, largely. Though I'm no damsel, so I commend you for the effort." He turned his gaze to Tae'thelan's crotch for a meaningful moment. "You cut a very _heroic_ figure."

Tae'thelan snorted. "No one's ever complained... though the sweeping usually happens before the trousers come off." _But then, we've never been conventional, have we?_ This was the strangest, most disorienting courtship Tae'thelan had ever pursued; what was one more thing out of turn?

Rommath cleared his throat. "Far be it for me to dissuade anyone from pleasuring me... but we're likely to be here for quite a while longer, with no soap or water. Are you sure you want to..."

Tae'thelan leaned in for a kiss, pressing Rommath down on to the stone. "I have never been more sure," he murmured against his ear. "I wouldn't have offered if I didn't have supplies to hand."

Rommath stiffened beneath him. "'Supplies'? Don't tell me you presumed you'd be getting some down here?"

"Of course not," Tae'thelan said, straightening and reaching for his bag. "I carry an emergency kit on every dig. Water, biscuits, antiseptic, bandages... one never knows what might happen." This was only a partial falsehood: Tae'thelan did indeed carry necessities out of prudence, but also for possibilities. Not specifically for _Rommath_ – the thought would have been laughable even a week ago – but there were far worse ways to pass the time out in the desert than sex. The nights were long, entertainment scarce. Far better to have all the comforts of home than to aspire to feigned spontaneity.

"Hrm." Rommath turned his head to look at the bag, apparently satisfied, or near enough to let it go. "What else have you got in there? Anything good?"

"A blanket," Tae'thelan said. "For you." It was thin and light, but rolled up it made a serviceable pillow.

"I'm surprised you don't have throw pillows in there," Rommath drawled, though he looked pleased as he settled his head down on it. "What's next, silk scarves?"

"Well, I do have some rope." Tae'thelan grinned broadly, holding it up to show him. "Probably not your thing unless you're into burns, though."

"Indeed," Rommath said, after a beat. "And besides, I'm not going to be found tied up down here with my robes round my waist. I'm sure you feel the same."

Tae'thelan looked down at his trousers. Still on, still open, still but a moment's effort to pretend that he and Rommath had done nothing but bicker or sit in mutinous silence. He felt vaguely foolish with his cock still sticking out, but that would pass once he got some attention.

"I like the sound of your robes round your waist, though," he said, running a strong hand up Rommath's thigh. "On display for me."

Rommath lifted his hips to allow Tae'thelan to push the fabric up, lips parted in anticipation. He opened his legs, and Tae'thelan had to close his eyes for a moment to gather himself. Rommath's beautiful cock, slick and huge, made his own erection throb painfully. _I want him,_ he thought, wildly, desperately. _What would it be like to ride him? To take his cock, to be filled so completely?_ It was intimidating but intoxicating, and he felt his asshole flutter with excitement and desire.

"When we get out of here," he said, voice hoarse and intent. "When we get back to civilisation. I want you to lock us in your bedchamber and fuck me until I can't take any more." Why was he saying this? He wanted it – oh, how he wanted it – but he shouldn’t be voicing it, shouldn’t be mentioning the future at all. _Will he think me foolish? Overeager? Insincere?_

"Such a delightful invitation." Rommath's smirk was both playful and smug. "I'd ask why not now, but" – he gestured helplessly to his cock – "I doubt even you have any toys in that bag of yours." He feigned a sigh. "The woes of the blessed."

“Your sorrow is deeply compelling,” Tae’thelan said in good humour. _He may be impressively endowed, but_ I _don’t need a toolkit just to fuck someone._

Kneeling before the dais, Tae’thelan spread Rommath’s thighs further, pushing them to his chest, delighting in their soft hair and hard muscle. He wanted to bury his face everywhere, to nuzzle and lick and inhale until he was soaked with Rommath’s essence. His scent was intoxicating – jasmine from his bath, and a fresh, clean musk full of arousal and anticipation.

“Beautiful,” Tae’thelan murmured, overwhelmed with desire. “If I had you every day of the rest of my life I could never grow tired.”

A glance at Rommath’s face surprised him – _is he_ embarrassed _?_ It seemed so unlikely, and yet. And yet. The colour in his cheeks, the subconscious parting of his lips, the look in his eyes that was both mortified and undone – Tae’thelan had touched him, somehow, or so he hoped.

They locked eyes, and then Rommath looked away, up into the dark. “Stop pontificating and start licking. You’ve teased me far too long.”

Tae’thelan gave Rommath’s cock a long lick from head to base, revelling in the silky feel of skin and the taste of his arousal on his tongue. “I haven’t begun to tease you,” he said thickly, softly blowing to chill the trail of saliva. “When you beg me I might take pity.”

Rommath responded by pushing his crotch up into Tae’thelan’s face. “I don’t beg; I command. _Lick_.”

There was a sultry power in Rommath’s tone, one that Tae’thelan was powerless to deny even if he wished to. He’d believed that he was the one setting the tempo of this encounter, but the thrill that ran through his belly invited him to consider other possibilities. Rommath, lounging on a feather bed strewn with pillows, a whip dangling lazily from one hand as Tae’thelan blew him. Rommath, tying him down, fucking his face, pulling his hair, smirking at the saliva dripping down his face. Rommath, riding him and teasing him and fucking him but not letting him come until he was a desperate, aching mess. He wanted it, _needed_ it.

_I would be your slave, your bewitched, your enraptured. Chain me, caress me, devour me. Make me yours._

But first – first he had to woo him. Convince him of his sincerity, his desire. His ardent need to please and be pleased.

Tae’thelan gave a deep, primal groan as his lips grazed flesh once more. Licking, kissing, lapping, he engulfed Rommath feverishly, reverently, every sweep of his tongue and press of his lips a token of his ardour. When he ran his tongue under his foreskin Rommath writhed; when he sucked and pulled and gently, gently scraped, Rommath gasped and cried and grasped the edges of the dais as though he would fall.

He panted, eyes dark, hips rolling. “Lower. Go lower. I–” He broke off as Tae’thelan began to gently stroke the skin around his asshole with a finger, soft and teasing.

“Your wish is my desire,” Tae’thelan murmured, breath warm against Rommath’s cock. He gave the head one final suck, tugging his lips away with a pop and a trail of saliva. It fell back onto Rommath’s belly, swollen and glistening and beautiful. _He wants me,_ he thought hazily. _He wants me. Whatever the reason, whatever we have here, he wants me._

“Rommath,” he sighed, closing his eyes and savouring the moment; the feel of Rommath’s soft skin beneath his finger; the heavy musk of his arousal that magnified and concentrated his personal scent a hundredfold; the awareness of his pulse hammering, his breath hitching, his body tensing.

“My name sounds good on your lips,” came Rommath’s voice from the gloom, as quiet and soft and full of intensity as Tae’thelan had heard in his dreams. “Say it again.”

“Rommath,” Tae’thelan sighed, testing it, tasting it, marvelling how the name of an enemy could be so sweet on his tongue. He said it again, stronger, and then he was pulling at Rommath’s legs, spreading his cheeks, licking down past his taint to his little pink asshole, circling, kissing, sucking, wondering how he could ever burn off some of his ardour, how he could ever come to a point where there was room in his mind for anything but sex. His cock was throbbing almost painfully, heavy with the need to push into somewhere wet and warm and thrust until he came in a white-hot rush.

He’d intended to tease Rommath some more, but the gentle, almost rhythmic twitching of his asshole under Tae’thelan’s tongue was too much – he stiffened his tongue and plunged inside, forcefully holding Rommath’s knees to his chest to keep him open and prevent him from writhing.

Hot. He was hot and tight, his ass drawing in Tae’thelan’s tongue on every thrust, reluctant to let it go, eager for every lick and swirl. Rommath’s thighs were straining against Tae’thelan’s hands, and he had covered his mouth with a hand to muffle his moans. Tae’thelan had never seen him so undone, had never heard him cry out so beautifully.

 _We can never go back,_ Tae’thelan thought as he made love to Rommath with his tongue. _Not now. Not to how it was. Not to how we were._ The thought was heady and dazzling and frightening. Sex in Quel’thalas was often as much about power as it was desire, and they had started with both, but now it was something else, something more. Did Rommath feel it too? Would he let him into his heart as he’d let him into his bed?

“Tae’thelan,” Rommath groaned, with an intonation that suggested Tae’thelan hadn’t heard him the first time. “If you don’t fuck me _right now_ …”

“... You’ll what?” Tae’thelan asked with amusement, reluctantly pulling away.

“I don’t know,” Rommath said thickly, covering his eyes with a hand. “ _Something_.” He sucked in a shaky breath. “I know you must have oil in that bag of yours.”

“I’m a veritable boy scout,” Tae’thelan said, pulling out a rag. He dabbed antiseptic around his mouth and then took a generous swig, swishing and gargling and then spitting genteelly into the cloth. The taste was bitter and astringent, but a few sips from the drinking bottle he’d brought took the sting out of it.

Rommath was jerking a fist around his cock, eyes closed, breathing heavy. “Could you possibly do that any more slowly?”

“And risk kissing you with ass-breath?”

Rommath groaned impatiently. “I wouldn’t care until afterwards.”

Tae’thelan laughed, feeling a surge of affection that left him giddy. _Has he always been funny?_ “You’re depraved,” he said, bringing the oil over and marvelling once more at the exquisite sight of Rommath spread out before him, robes around his waist, cock straining in his hand, balls swollen and heavy, his beautiful asshole pink and inviting.

Rommath lifted his head off the makeshift pillow to look at him, dark strands of hair that had escaped his ponytail framing his face. “Not nearly enough,” he said hoarsely, pleadingly. He looked wild and wanton and undone, and Tae’thelan couldn’t stop himself from kissing him, crushing their mouths together and licking, sliding, desperately wondering if Rommath could feel his passion, feel his burgeoning regard. _I could love you, one day,_ he thought, cupping Rommath’s face in his hands and losing himself to the pleasure of kissing, caressing, of Rommath’s hot tongue curling needily against his, of Rommath’s quiet groans as they moved their hips together, skin against blessed skin.

Tae’thelan longed for more; longed for a lazy afternoon together spent in bed, clothes long shed and all the time in the world to explore each other. No robes, no ridiculous half-open trousers, no waiting for rescue. Just him, Rommath, some wine, some massage oil… But no. No. Not yet. Presumption would break his heart.

 _Daydreams can wait. Enjoy what you have,_ he chastised himself. _Show him your need. Make him trust in your esteem._

Pulling away from the kiss was agonising, but a single moment more without being inside Rommath would have been torture. Fumbling with the bottle of oil, Tae’thelan forced himself to take a deep, calming breath, and be gentle like he wanted.

Rommath’s body responded delightfully, eager for his touch. His ring of muscle fluttered as Tae’thelan added another finger, and Tae’thelan took a moment to marvel at the intimacy, at Rommath’s unabashed pleasure. He had never seen Rommath so relaxed, so natural, so lacking in artifice. The tension of their previous encounters was absent, replaced by what he dared to hope was trust.

_Ha! Ever the optimist, Bloodwatcher._

“You’ve stopped,” Rommath said, peering at him.

“I was just… thinking how beautiful you are when you’re enjoying yourself.” Tae’thelan began to move his fingers again, slowly, gently.

Rommath barked a laugh of disbelief. “Were you really? Sounds like classic Bloodwatcher hot air to me.”

“I know better than to flatter you with falsities,” Tae’thelan said, voice low and ardent. “Usually, you’re handsome. Right now, you’re beautiful.” Coating his hand with more oil, he added a third finger, his lips twitching as Rommath groaned in relief and pushed back needily against his fingers. “You have no idea how much I want you.”

“Oh? So tell me, then.”

Now _that_ was an invitation.

“I want you badly,” Tae’thelan murmured, stroking Rommath inside in just the right way to make his breath hitch and his thighs taughten. “So badly that it’s taking all my restraint not to just have you right now and be done with it. But,” he continued, still stroking, gently, gently, teasing and tender, “I don’t just want to see you come. I want to see you shiver and writhe and sob as I overwhelm you with pleasure. I want you to feel my hands, my tongue, my cock – and beg for more, and for release, and for mercy all at once. Could there be anything more exquisite?”

Applying more pressure with his fingers, he slowly started to stroke Rommath’s hard, slick cock with his other hand, matching the rhythm of his fingers. Rommath’s body was hot and tight inside, gripping him deliciously. Rommath’s asshole twitched reflexively with pleasure, once, twice, drawing him in, eager for more of his touch. Small, soft sounds escaped from Rommath’s throat on every stroke, involuntary and beautiful and deeply erotic.

“For you _are_ exquisite,” Tae’thelan continued, his voice low and rough, looking Rommath straight in the eye as he stroked him inside and out. “That face – so stern! But when you’re relaxed… oh, you’re beautiful. I want to see you pant and gasp. I want to see your ears twitch” – he leaned down and licked one, breath hot and heavy in Rommath’s ear – “as I take you, slowly and maddeningly, until you’re so aroused you can’t help but beg me to fuck you, really fuck you. And I want that.” His voice dropped, deep and rumbling and thick with need. “I want you, Rommath.”

Rommath’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, his eyes dark and full of barely-repressed desire. “Then have me.” The outline of his adam’s apple as he swallowed sent a fresh surge of passion through Tae’thelan. _He wants me._ The thought was intoxicating, emboldening. _He wants me._ No admonishments, no challenges, just need, and lust, and something unfamiliar that was deeply thrilling and far too fragile to question. If he asked, Tae’thelan was sure, the moment, the feeling, would break and shatter like so many fragments of hope in his frail and battered heart, and that he could not bear.

 _Show him love,_ he urged himself. _Show him what it is to be loved by you._

Releasing his hand from around Rommath’s erection, Tae’thelan gripped his shoulder and kissed him, first tenderly and then fiercely when Rommath made a soft, pleading sound against his mouth that unravelled him completely. _Kiss me_ , the sound said. _Take me. Pleasure me completely_.

“Rommath…” Tae’thelan breathed, grazing his moist lips over Rommath’s own, wondering if he could feel his reverent tremble as he slowly, carefully eased his fingers out and then clumsily coated himself with oil, too aflame to savour touching himself like he normally might. The darkness and the torchlight intensified everything – every sound, every touch, every scent, made him feel giddy and unbalanced. He wanted to say something, anything, to ground himself, but what could he possibly say to Rommath that wouldn’t ruin this perfect, sensual moment?

So, instead, he pressed one final kiss to Rommath’s mouth, lush and welcoming and full of hunger, and then pulled away slightly to watch Rommath’s face as he pressed the tip of his cock against his entrance and rubbed, revelling in the feeling of skin on skin. The teasing was agonising, but worth it: Rommath’s eyes flashed huge and green in the dark as he took a deep, shuddering breath, and when he spoke his voice was fierce.

“More. Now.” He raised his hips, groaning softly at the lack of leverage his position afforded him.  “Tae’thelan, I swear –”

Rommath’s demand slid down from desperate, urgent words into a relieved and yielding moan as Tae’thelan pressed into him until his hips met his ass in one smooth, merciful thrust. He was hot, and tight, and deliciously slick, as though his body had been made just for this moment, just for Tae’thelan’s perfect pleasure. His eyes, closed; his lips, parted; his head, thrown back in an elegant arch of bliss – Rommath was breathtaking when unguarded. _He’s beautiful,_ he thought, as he twitched his hips and rubbed his belly against Rommath’s straining cock, heedless of the hem of his shirt. _Beneath the bite and the scorn, he’s beautiful._

There was a hint of another thought beneath, a writhing, nebulous shape made up of words that Rommath would despise for their presumption – _damaged, betrayed, afraid_ – but Tae’thelan’s mind was too occupied with the sensations of love to do anything but let it slip away for now.

Tae’thelan drew out again, slowly, slowly, leaving only the head of his cock inside. Rommath was almost painfully tight around him, but the tension felt urgent and delicious. Hooking his arms under Rommath’s knees, palms pressed against the cool stone of the altar, Tae’thelan gave a rumble of approval at the sight of Rommath spread out beneath him, intense and proud even with his legs in the air. His cock throbbed hotly against Tae’thelan’s belly and his eyes lidded briefly with anticipation as he felt Tae’thelan’s muscles tense against him.

 _Fuck,_ Tae’thelan thought as he thrust back deep into Rommath, balls thudding against his ass. The slap of skin on skin was enticingly lewd, the slick, wet sound as he slid back out and then thrust in again even more so. He was supposed to be taking it slowly, supposed to be showing love and care and romance, but the little gasps Rommath was giving every time Tae’thelan’s cock rubbed past his sweet spot just made him want to let go and fuck. The power he had over Rommath’s pleasure thrilled him.

“You sound delightful,” Tae’thelan purred in his ear, giving it a slow, long lick that elicited another of those wonderful little gasps. “Though you’ll sound even better louder.”

“Is that a promise?” Rommath managed, reaching up to stroke one of Tae’thelan’s ears in return, grasping but oddly tender. His ears were blissfully sensitive: would Rommath lick them one day, leaving him a writhing puddle amidst the sheets as he pinned him down and fucked him? The thought heated his blood and sent a shiver through his loins. How he wanted him!

“Think of it as a commitment to your pleasure,” Tae’thelan said, renewing his grip on Rommath’s thighs, the muscles taut under his strong fingers. He flexed his hips a few times, searching for exactly the angle he wanted, and then, without completely pulling out, he began to rapidly thrust in short, sharp strokes, almost bouncing his cock into Rommath. Every movement pressed the head of his cock against Rommath’s prostate, fast and intense, designed to elicit exactly the kind of cry that Rommath gave – deep and primal and lavish, echoing beautifully in the dark. His eyes rolled up and fluttered closed; his lips parted in a perfect portrait of heaven.

Breathe – he had to breathe. Centuries of experience and control meant nothing at this moment, not when he was so feverish, so undone. It felt good – so pleasantly male – to be moving his body: flexing his hips, tightening his stomach, tautening his buttocks to thrust harder. He bit his lip, trying to concentrate on that dull discomfort rather than the warmth building in his groin.

Rommath had shoved a hand down between them and was tugging at himself frantically, his hand bumping against Tae’thelan’s belly. He was covering his mouth with the other, trying in vain to muffle his cries.

“I said louder,” Tae’thelan admonished, gently but firmly taking Rommath’s hand by the wrist. “I want you to sing for me.”

Rommath laughed breathlessly, eyes flashing as he opened them again. “No one actually wants that.” He allowed Tae’thelan to remove his hand with only token resistance. “But I suppose I can oblige since you fuck so nicely.”

 _He looks so much younger when he smiles._ Seeing Rommath enjoy himself was a triumph; seeing Rommath enjoy his cock even more so. He would learn every inch of Rommath’s body, if he’d only let him. Every dip, every curve, every angle – he would stroke and lick and suck until he discovered every secret, and then he’d start all over again for the sheer joy of it.

Tae’thelan dipped his head down – he badly wanted to inhale the musk from Rommath’s underarms that blossomed during sex. Some found clothing titillating, but Tae’thelan yearned for skin and sweat and heat. The scent of Rommath’s neck and hair was pleasing, especially where his hair was damp with exertion, but it paled in comparison to the masculine musk that he revelled burying his face into.

The rapid thrusting was too much. Tae’thelan slowed his hips and lengthened his strokes, breathing heavily against Rommath’s neck from both exertion and arousal. It was always a popular move, but his body was going to scream at him later. “I’m too old to keep that up,” he lamented, lifting his head to give Rommath a rueful smile, lopsided and mischievous. Truthfully he had centuries left before he’d really slow down, but the vigour of his youth was sorely missed sometimes.

Rommath smirked. “I’ll show you how it’s done next time, old man.”

Tae’thelan’s breath hitched. _Next time?_ Did he mean that, or was it just another flippant comment? Rommath wasn’t in the habit of saying things purely to please, especially not to Tae’thelan, but… _You can’t hold on to words uttered during sex. You learned that long ago._ All he could do, he knew, was show his passion as best he could, and hope that he touched something within him. _He’s smiling and joking – who else can claim that?_

The smirk, though, was in great need of replacement. _My lips on yours will be a far more suitable look._ Wetting his lips, Tae’thelan slipped his tongue into Rommath’s mouth for a kiss that was hungry and brazen and humming with raw, animal desperation.

Rommath moaned into his mouth, grinding up against Tae’thelan’s pelvis and sucking on his tongue, wrenching every last ounce of sensation from their embrace. His body rocked against Tae’thelan’s with a powerful grace, the dance of a war-mage; Tae’thelan longed to see him unclothed and unfettered, as passionate in pleasure as he was in battle. _To think I thought him cold._ How much he had still to learn!

Rommath’s breathing was coming harder and faster, his chest heaving and his hand tugging roughly at his cock. _He will come soon_ , Tae’thelan noted with a surge of pleasure in his own groin. He wanted that, more even than his own climax – he wanted to feel Rommath arch against him, wanted to wrack him with breathtaking sensation, wanted him to pant and smile and swoon _._ This feeling inside him – this burgeoning, thundering love – was unbearable, untenable. _More. I must be more. I must be better._

Above all, he knew, he must be _memorable_. What more would Rommath like? Perhaps there had been a hint last night, the blurred line between pain and pleasure. Tae’thelan didn’t want to hurt him, but...

 _Yes_ , there it was. The nipple he’d ravaged the night before, small and erect under the light fabric of Rommath’s robe. A gentle brush with his fingers to begin with – and _oh_ , _more_ – as Rommath _gasped_ , breaking off the kiss, throwing his head back, the shadow of his jaw flickering in the torchlight as he swallowed and then gasped again.

“Squeeze,” he rasped, pressing himself desperately against Tae’thelan’s fingers. Tae’thelan did so, squeezing and rolling his nipple beneath the cloth as he fucked him – in, out, in, out – to the rhythm of his ragged panting. The power Tae’thelan felt was exquisite – such a compelling reaction to such a tiny touch. Rommath’s cheeks were perfectly flushed, and he kept running his tongue over his lips, yearning for something to lick, something to taste.

“Tae’thelan.” Rommath’s voice was frayed and unravelling. “Please, I want to –” His breath hitched and his eyes closed as Tae’thelan squeezed him again. “I want –” And again he squeezed.

“What is it you want?” Tae’thelan asked solicitously, quirking lips betraying his enjoyment. He shouldn’t be teasing him like this, he shouldn’t, but…

“You know what I want.” Rommath’s scowl was ruined by his gasp of pleasure as Tae’thelan tweaked him again.

“Remind me. You have but to ask.”

Rommath’s whole body shivered, belying his exasperation. _He protests, but he enjoys the game._ “Fuck me.” His voice was thick with need. “Fuck me hard, fuck me fast, and don’t you dare stop.”

Rommath’s body was taut beneath him, straining on the edge of orgasm. The heat, the desire –  to play with him any more would surely be cruel.

“I am yours to command,” Tae’thelan said softly, obediently, dipping his head to lick Rommath’s lips with reverent hunger. Their eyes met with a bare, raw intensity that left Tae’thelan’s heart pounding and giddy as he began again to pound into him, to once more love Rommath with power and savagery.

A wildness overtook him, guiding his body as he fucked Rommath like he’d asked, hard and fast, full of friction and heat and a rising, spiralling throb that felt like ecstasy as they moved together. Sweat dampened his hair from the exertion of supporting himself one-handed as he rolled Rommath’s nipple beneath his fingers as roughly as he dared. His efforts were rewarded by the tensing of Rommath’s body beneath him, by the beautiful cry he gave as he came, hard, toes curling, thighs clenching, spine arching as he began to spill his seed between them in a scalding, agonising rush.

“I want to see you climax every night,” Tae’thelan murmured into his ear as he continued to slam into him. “I want you to crave my cock, so badly that nothing else – no one else – will do. I’m going to fuck you and love you and care for you, and you’ll never want for anything because I’m here to serve you, in any capacity, in any role, and –”

His own orgasm hit him like the great wall of a tidal wave, so deep and blue he was breathing water, filling his lungs and wondering how he could ever have needed air. His body strained against the force of his climax, muscles tensing and hips rolling, pounding into Rommath as he babbled loving things, filthy things, words that scoured his soul and left him raw and open and exposed.

Good – it felt good to thrust, and to keep thrusting, while Rommath’s body clamped down on him, gripping and wringing every last drop of come from him, hot and sticky and a mark of ownership so exquisite that Tae’thelan didn’t know whether to sob or to growl. _Mine,_ came the thought, dark and primal. _He wanted it, needed it. Every drip will remind him of how you fucked him on an altar while he begged for you._

And then, somehow, it was over, and Tae’thelan was left to lie limp atop of Rommath, head resting on his chest, the fast thud of his heart comforting and dreadful all at once – for it was _over_ , and the things he’d said, the things he’d said–! Who was that man, so passionate, so depraved, torn between love and lust, worship and desecration?

He could not move – could not lift his head to meet Rommath’s eyes. The thump of Rommath’s heart was loud against his ear. _He’s tense. What must he think of me?_

Rommath’s head still rested on the makeshift pillow; he hadn’t moved at all since his climax. “What was that?” he said, weakly, as though he was using his voice for the first time in an age. “Who _are_ you, Tae’thelan?” And then, into the silence that Tae’thelan was too weary and sated to immediately fill: “Why me? Why have you chosen _me_? You hate me. I’m a filthy warlock who enslaved a naaru.”

What could Tae’thelan say but the truth? "I hate what you've done. I don't hate who you are. I could love who you are. I _want_ to love who you are."

“But _why_?” Bewilderment sounded strange and alien on Rommath’s tongue. “What could there possibly be to love? We fuck well, it’s true” – he gave a quiet laugh – “but you’re not some wide-eyed apprentice fool enough to confuse the two.”

“I…” How could he ever hope to explain? Surely it was impossible, but equally surely he had to try. “You have vision. Drive. A fire inside you that burns. We want the same thing, you and I – a future for our people, and I… I want a future for myself. With someone who fascinates me. Someone who challenges me. Someone whose intellect sparkles like diamond. Someone whose wit delights me. Someone who plays with the Spire cats late at night when he thinks everyone else has gone home.

“I want you so much I can hardly bear it. I want to taste you, touch you, feel you – all of you. I want to pleasure you. I want to love you. I want to know every inch of you.” Gathering resolve, he forced himself to meet Rommath’s gaze and hold it. His face was painfully unreadable – all Tae’thelan could do was forge on through this tortuous crucible of love and hope that it was enough.

“I _ache,_ Rommath. I ache with desire. I ache with the fear that you will think me a fool and turn me away. And surely who could blame you? I sound insane – I _am_ insane.” He gave a despairing laugh that echoed uncomfortably in the dark, empty tomb. “All I know is that I haven’t felt alive like this in years. I didn’t think I ever would again, and I’d thought I was okay with that, but I’m not, I’m not” – he raked a hand through his unruly, sweat-dampened hair, face haggard – “and so here I am, raving like a madman, offering you an unsought heart.”

_And thus I am undone. Left to fall, left to ruin, left to mourn a love I never had._

“Unsought, but perhaps not unwelcome,” Rommath murmured. Was his face softening just a trick of the torchlight? “Let’s… sit. You can’t be comfortable, and we’re still, ah” –  he gestured helplessly in the direction of their lower bodies – “rather attached.”

After existing solely in the realm of love and pleasure, the call of reality was deeply unglamorous. Tae’thelan certainly wasn’t the first man to make wild declarations of love after orgasm, but the circumstances – the tomb, the altar, Rommath’s rapidly-cooling come sinking further and further into their clothes – were unflattering and ridiculous now that they were both returning to their senses.

Shifting his weight back to his feet, Tae’thelan slowly pulled out, agonisingly aware of the softness of Rommath’s skin and the rapid beat of his heart. Rommath had not spurned him; they would sit. He would take Rommath in his arms and they would sit, side by side, and talk about all that had gone between them.

With trembling hands that he fought to hide, Tae’thelan tended to them both, wiping away the traces of their love making and resettling their clothing, every touch an epistle of his affection.

“So attentive,” Rommath remarked, a smirk playing over his lips as he allowed Tae’thelan to help him down from the altar. “Are you still labouring under the impression that I’m a gentle maiden?”

“By no means.” Tae’thelan drew Rommath down to rest against the stone, wrapping the blanket around his bare shoulders. “But you are no less precious for it.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone quite so ridiculous,” Rommath said, his words laced with captivated amusement. “You’re completely mad, and yet it’s somehow tolerable.” Shifting, he pressed his body closer to Tae’thelan’s. “You do know who I am?”

“Impossible to forget,” Tae’thelan murmured, daring to slide an arm around him, the heat of Rommath’s body through the blanket stoking his bravery. “Everything about you is exquisite and unique.”

Rommath leaned his head back against the cold stone. “Unique indeed.” His voice was rueful, self-deprecating. “Even with everything I’ve done, everything I am, you still want me?”

“More than anything,” Tae’thelan breathed. Rommath’s cheek was warm as he stroked it, with just the barest hint of stubble. _What would he look like, wild and unkempt? Will I see it one day?_ “The civil war changed us all – those at its heart more than anyone. I fell into a pattern after I railed against your initial actions as grand magister. It was easy to have an adversary: someone to blame, someone to fight. I failed to recognise that at some point we’d ceased to be so different.

“You’re not the man you, I, or anyone else says you are. You’re not the symbol of everything that’s wrong with the sin’dorei. You’re a man like any other, and men change. Men learn. We’ve all suffered enough without my picking at old wounds. You have the esteem and friendship of the Regent Lord; you toil endlessly for our future. You’re a true steward of our people, Rommath, and I believe in your strength. In your heart. And I…” He stared out into the dark. “I hope you can believe in mine.”

Rommath was silent for a while. Tae’thelan forced himself simply to hold him, to give him time to work things out.

“You’re absurd,” Rommath eventually said, resting his head on Tae’thelan’s shoulder. It felt good there, warm and heavy and right. “All this talk of hearts and feelings.”

“Shall I stop?” Tae’thelan said, drawing Rommath closer against him. “Would you rather we spoke of more mundane matters?”

“No.” Rommath’s voice was quiet and tinged with reproach; he had seen through Tae’thelan’s attempt to bait him, as Tae’thelan had known he would. “Against all odds, it’s charming. And, light help me, _you’re_ charming. You’re strange and presumptuous and utterly mad, but… you’ve convinced me of your sincerity.” He lifted his head, turned to look at Tae’thelan. His eyes glowed and his lips were soft. “I would like to see you again.”

 _He wants to see me again._ It felt utterly unreal; his body was dust, his mind was fire. “I shall take you to the opera,” he said, choosing to laugh.

“And then to bed, I hope? You said some interesting things, earlier.” Rommath’s ears twitched with amusement. “Something about locking us in, something about you wanting me to –”

Tae’thelan was forced to kiss him, then, to save himself from embarrassment. Rommath’s lips were warm and wet like summer rain, and Tae’thelan’s heart sang with rainbows. It was foolish, embarrassing, but he embraced it gladly, his joy boundless and effervescent and painted with all the colours of his dreams. _He wants me. He wants me._ His thoughts were stuck, but he would never grow tired.

Their kiss ended with a soft sound as their lips reluctantly parted. Rommath looked as Tae’thelan felt, hungry but shy, suddenly. His eyes, always so intense, burned with jade fire, and then he was kissing Tae’thelan again, cupping his jaw, running a hand through his lank and sweaty hair. The kiss was thorough, decisive; Tae’thelan thrilled under Rommath’s touch. _What might come after the opera?_ If he were still a young man he would have been hard again already, but it was just as well he wasn’t: once down here had been pushing it – a second time and they would surely be discovered. They still might be, if they didn’t make a better effort at hiding the evidence.

“We smell like sex,” Tae’thelan said when he finally managed to wrench himself away.

Rommath looked down at their clothes, pursing his lips in distaste. “Ah. Yes.” They had wiped away Rommath’s seed as best they could, but not nearly quickly enough. The stains and the scent would be humiliatingly unmistakable.

“You should stand back,” Tae’thelan said, pushing himself up with an involuntary groan; his hips were already complaining after his earlier vigour, though it was a satisfying kind of ache. “I have an idea, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“As always, you’re completely baffling.” Rommath backed away, the blanket draped around his shoulders like a cape. _I want him to always be warm,_ Tae’thelan thought, pleased that he had provided him this small comfort.

* * *

 “Preposterous,” Rommath said as Tae’thelan swung the discarded pick-axe with a practiced hand, intending to bring down the roof of the small tunnel behind the altar. “We’re to smear ourselves in rock dust and claim the ceiling caved in?”

“It will hide the stains,” Tae’thelan said defensively. “I fail to see a better option, unless you would rather advertise our congress to my agents, some of whom are gleefully aware that we shared a bath this morning.”

* * *

 And so it was that the High Examiner and the Grand Magister were covered head to toe in rock dust when the door of the tomb was finally blown open and rescue was upon them.

“It’s in my _hair_ ,” Rommath complained, for the second time in as many days.

“We can bathe and change when we get back to camp,” Tae’thelan murmured soothingly in his ear as a goblin engineer scrambled over the rubble.

“No.” Rommath was emphatic. “I’m returning to Silvermoon immediately. I won’t spend another moment in this infernal wasteland, and if you have any sense at all you’ll follow me.”

“Oh, I intend to,” Tae’thelan said, stretching his shoulders and wondering just how badly he would ache tomorrow. “Though I must put the camp in order first, and hire some goblins to explore that blasted tunnel. I’m sure the sceptre is long gone, but there will be _something_.”

“I look forward to hearing about the outcome over a stiff drink, far away from here,” Rommath said, tone as dry as the stale air of the tomb. He made a small noise of impatience as Tae’thelan’s assistant ran up to them, the same woman who had walked in on them earlier that day. “My thanks,” he said dismissively, plucking a flask of water from her hands and striding off towards the entrance, scowling at everyone he passed.

No one would guess that only a short while ago they had been kissing shyly to pass the time; even for Tae’thelan it was starting to feel unreal. For all his protestations against romance, Rommath had been gentle and sweet, their kisses lacking urgency since they had both recently climaxed. It had been an age since Tae’thelan had kissed someone purely for the joy of his lips on theirs. _Can any of them see my heart shine?_

“Forgive his rudeness, Miss Sunglow. He has discovered that archaeology does not suit him,” Tae’thelan said, tearing his gaze away from the powerful grace of Rommath’s form as he strode away. “We have both survived the ordeal intact, and the Grand Magister will be returning to Silvermoon forthwith.” He took a hearty swig from the flask she had brought for him and treated her to a weary smile. “You have done well.”

* * *

 The rest of the day was tiresome and vexatious. By the time Tae’thelan teleported back to Silvermoon the sun had long since set and his townhouse, normally so welcoming, was shrouded in shadows. His staff had not expected the expedition to finish a week early and had taken a well-deserved evening off. No meal awaited him, and his bedchamber was cold. He had to draw and heat his own bath several times in order to rid himself of the grime and dust of the day, and by the time he crawled into bed, aching and exhausted, his previous elation and sparkle felt very far away.

 _Does your bed feel as empty as mine?_ Tae’thelan was too weary to desire anything but sleep, but Rommath’s warm body pressed against his as he drifted off would have been eminently pleasant.

 _He has not the same investment as you,_ he chastised himself. _Do not assume he is thinking of you._ He hoped, of course, but he had to keep a tight rein on his ardour. _A week ago you hated each other!_ No matter how deep his feelings – he loved hard, if he loved at all – this was still just the very beginning. Rommath had found his passion charming thus far, but he would not be impressed if Tae’thelan showed himself to be an emotionally incontinent adolescent.

He flung a hand behind his head and stared up at the ceiling. The next suitable opera performance was damnably far away – was it really next week that the new run of “Endala Finel Endal” was beginning? Even as a generous patron he did not have the clout – or the audacity – to demand it be moved forward.

 _Take a leaf out of Brightblade’s book and ‘chill’, Bloodwatcher. Relax. Enjoy the quiet. You have work on the morrow._ Oh, if only the expedition hadn’t been such a disappointment, his mind would be fizzing with thoughts other than Rommath. His work had sustained him for the better part of a decade, but it felt decidedly lacklustre when compared with the heady throes of blossoming love.

Restless, he rolled onto his side in a more sincere effort to hasten sleep. Something crinkled unexpectedly as he moved his head. The familiar tang of arcane magic hung in the air: an envelope had materialised on his pillow. Startled, and not a little curious, he sat up and conjured a small white light to read by.

Creamy parchment, thick and weighty: a herald of tasteful expense and the desire to subtly impress. Tae’thelan’s heart fluttered in hopeful anticipation.

_“High Examiner,_

_Despite the unsatisfactory outcome of your expedition I will, of course, still require a full report of your methods and findings. An oral presentation in person at my apartments tomorrow night will be sufficient – ensure you are well-rested, for my questioning will be thorough and I expect only your finest work._

_Refreshment will be provided._

_Grand Magister Rommath”_

Just as he finished reading, another letter dropped onto his pillow, in the same looping, elegant hand, though this time unblotted.

_“Bloodwatcher – surely you can manage better wards? They were shockingly easy to penetrate. A man of your experience should provide more of a challenge, lest some disreputable magister take advantage.”_

“Disreputable indeed,” Tae’thelan murmured, lips quirking. A pleasant warmth spread down from the tips of his ears to rest in his belly with a flutter.

_Will he allow me to reply?_

Tired though he was, testing Rommath’s own wards for permitted communication was a simple act for a practiced magister. Actually circumventing the wards would be intricate and tedious – to say that the grand magister did not welcome unsolicited correspondence at his home was an understatement, and he had a particular interest in arcane obscuration besides – but to Tae’thelan’s relief Rommath had authorised his own particular magical resonance.

Summoning paper and ink, he began to write.

_“Grand Magister,_

_I am honoured to be presented with the opportunity to be debriefed in person, and in so intimate a setting. I aim to please in all aspects of my duty, and as such I shall practice my oratory skills long into the night. If, however, my performance proves to be a disappointment, I will accept any chastisement you see fit to deliver. My devotion and commitment to the office of Grand Magister is of immense personal pride, and I will endeavour not to leave you dissatisfied._

_Your willing servant,_

_High Examiner Tae’thelan Bloodwatcher_

_– P.S. I would be most obliged to have your ear regarding how best to avoid falling prey to disreputable and unscrupulous magisters. I am confident that you have much to teach me.”_

Though far from his best work, it would do for the late hour. He sent it off with a twitch of his fingers and a faint violet sparkle, savouring this simple use of his power after the disconcerting void of the tomb.

Lying back onto the pillows Tae’thelan couldn’t help but smile, wide and shy and full of pleasure. The flirtation thrilled him. Never before had technically being Rommath’s subordinate been more palatable. A week ago he would rather have fucked a dwarf, but now he was envisioning kneeling beneath Rommath’s desk, vigorously following orders with a masterful hand gripping his hair. Rommath looking down at him, lips twisted in an arrogant smirk, his legs sprawled artlessly wide – it was the stuff of his erotic novels, all power and submission and fantasy. And that was only the beginning: Rommath’s second letter had made it deliciously clear what his reward might be.

His hand was on his cock before he knew it. _Ridiculous._ He was tired, so tired, but the throbbing heat between his legs was urgent and compelling. He hissed through his teeth as he grasped himself more roughly, not at all interested in drawing the experience out. This was not the time for a sensual, leisurely experience. Tomorrow – that would be tomorrow, when he could get his mouth on Rommath’s gorgeous cock and tease him until he sagged in his chair and hoarsely ordered him to stop. They both knew that Tae’thelan was desperate to be fucked, to be stretched and filled and pounded and forced to come again and again until he sobbed.

He worked a finger inside himself, imagining it was Rommath. He had warm, clever hands that would stroke, and rub, and _press_ –

He gasped, once, and then he was gone, over the edge into ecstasy, the wash of come hot on his fingers, on his belly. He sucked in a shaky breath, opened his eyes, and then closed them again, his vision unsteady and full of stars. _Rommath._ His name was a comforting prayer in his thoughts. _What have you done to me?_ He ached for more: for the kisses and cuddles that would follow, for the tangled, sweaty limbs that would allow only fitful dozing before they separated for actual sleep.

 _Sleep. That sounds good. Yes._ He had enough presence of mind to summon a washcloth from his nightstand and pull the blankets back up around him, and then he was slipping, sliding into the dark and oblivious sleep of the sated and bone-weary.

* * *

 Tae’thelan had dithered over presenting Rommath with a single red rose when he visited. Would it be charming or trying too hard? Would it damage the atmosphere their notes had crafted last night, that of master and servant? Would Rommath be displeased if he was seen brandishing it outside his apartments for anyone to see?

There were far too many ‘woulds’ lately. If Tae’thelan couldn’t trust his instincts and his inclinations by now, then when? Rommath liked him as he was, courtly manners and all. Fear should not change him.

He had wrapped the rose in black velvet and stowed it carefully in his briefcase alongside his notes and translations and contracts. Nothing odd about the High Examiner paying a visit to the Grand Magister to discuss Reliquary business, nothing odd at all. His fine clothes, his briefcase, his carefully-affected scowl of impatience as he waited for the door to be seen to by one of Rommath’s servants: these were his armour against gossip and scandal, or so he hoped.

What he really wanted was to shout his happiness for all to hear, to twirl and laugh by the fountain in the Court of the Sun, to dance on its rim like a loon in shirtsleeves and waistcoat – but not now, not yet. There would be months of sneaking around to come, if the fledgling relationship lasted even that long. They were both powerful, eligible men, and there would undoubtedly be accusations of manipulation or favouritism that would make life difficult and unpleasant for both them and the Regent Lord. The hassle was simply not worth it, not until they had formed a more lasting attachment – if they did at all.

He smiled to himself as the door opened and a servant in red and gold bowed to him. _The role of discreet gentleman is one I was born to play._ _I will love you behind closed doors – I will fill you with so much love that you will never doubt how precious you are. I will be there after the trials of the day. Your name will be as silk on my lips, your skin sweeter even than sin. I will_ love _you, with every look, every word, every blessed touch._

The rose encased in velvet was somehow in his hand as he followed the servant to Rommath’s drawing room. In another world, another life, he would have admired the parquet flooring of the hall, the rich tapestries and fine art adorning the walls, but Tae’thelan had eyes only for the grand, heavy door that would lead him to Rommath.

He stepped over the threshold, pushed the door closed behind him. Rommath was sitting at his desk, posture regal and officious. He smiled as Tae’thelan offered him the rose, his face radiant with surprise and delight.

He couldn’t help himself. “You are beautiful,” he said. “I would bring you a thousand more just to see that smile again.”

“Bring me a thousand roses and I will think you insane for real,” Rommath said. He considered the rose for a moment, twirling it carefully between his fingers, and then looked back up at Tae’thelan, eyes dark and wicked beneath the fel green glow. “Report, High Examiner. Your letter promised quite the performance.” Maintaining eye contact he leaned back in his chair and made a show of kissing the rose, lips moist and lingering.

 _Would that I were that rose._ But he would be, he would be, and he would not wilt beneath Rommath’s luscious lips, full of warmth and cruel beauty. _I will gladly prick myself on your thorns._

For so long, he had been alone. For so long, he had thought he always would be. How could he have found love in so strange a place, with so strange a man?

_He is not so strange, though. He loves and yearns and wants as much as any other. You have seen his fire, his heart, his passion._

_Show him yours._

With his stomach full of butterflies and his heart full of gladness, Tae’thelan loosened his collar, stepped forward, and offered the Grand Magister his sincere regards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, this fic has been a journey! It was conceived as a short, tropey smut fic with the premise "Rommath and Tae'thelan should bang in a tomb". Clearly it mutated, though the cheesy tropes remain, for which I can only apologise. (Though only half-heartedly, because who doesn't love some "we must cuddle to stay warm" fic?) I never intended the second half to take as long as it has -- I'm chronically ill, and every word has been a struggle. If you're a previous reader, thank you so much for your patience!
> 
> I couldn't have written this without my beautiful friends. Wanda, Bryn, Rini, Andrea, your help and support have been amazing, and I will be eternally thankful. You are the best cheerleaders, lore nerds, and sounding boards!
> 
> If you've enjoyed this, there is [gorgeous (NSFW!) art](http://elaatmik.tumblr.com/post/132261929623/forever-and-ever-ago-i-promised-shinyforce-that-i) by my talented friend! <3


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